


Never cry again

by Fox_sox



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: :/, Alpha Iwaizumi Hajime, Alpha Kageyama Tobio, Alpha Kuroo Tetsurou, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Beta Kozume Kenma, Domestic Disputes, Healing, Hurt Kageyama Tobio, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Jealous Hinata Shouyou, Jealous Iwaizumi Hajime, Kageyama's parents suck, Lots of Angst, M/M, Mild Character Injury, NO HEATS/RUTS, No mpreg, Omega Hinata Shouyou, Omega Oikawa Tooru, Omega Sugawara Koushi, Omega Tsukishima Kei, One-sided Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Or Is It?, Sad Hinata Shouyou, Sad Kozume Kenma, Sad Oikawa Tooru, Scenting, Unrequited Love, happy ending dw, mama suga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:49:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22442872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox_sox/pseuds/Fox_sox
Summary: Kageyama sees Hinata with Kenma. It breaks him more than he can put into words. His world changes from then on, life cracks his heart and then glues the pieces back together on repeat, will he ever get what he truly wants? or should we say, who he truly wants?basically omegaverse, main focus on iwaoi and kagehina, sad everyone, everything's one-sided, OR SO IT SEEMS....!T rating for language
Relationships: (kagehina is endgame tho), (mentioned) - Relationship, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei
Comments: 76
Kudos: 388





	1. Chapter 1

And there he saw it. Hinata had kissed Kenma. A beta, really? His first thought was a flash of anger like lightning across his mind, but the reality that set in after was so much worse. It was one of those moments that you remember for the rest of your life. The kind that etch deep into your soul. It was the kind of moment where a rock settled deep in his throat, the pain making itself at home there. This was the kind of moment in which the only thought that came to mind was a small _oh._ The phrase bounced around his skull pounding against his ribs. Kenma held the redheaded boy. He _smelled_ him. Rubbing is stench of wool and cinnamon all over him. The soft spiker in his lapped purred and melted into the touch. Kageyama thought he might be sick. 

_My omega-_ No never his. Never his to hold to protect to keep warm. Hinata was never his. The conclusion made him shake violently. His inner alpha screamed and wailed in rage, but the crushing hurt he felt overpowered it. He wanted to lie down for a while, let the lump forming in his throat just weigh him down into the soft earth behind the tree. Let his tears carve out a new river, his wimpers be heard all down the stream. He wanted his long calloused fingers that threw set after set to the young omega to dig into the ground and become the roots of great tall trees. Ones with branches and trunks stronger than he. With vibrant leaves who’s colors painted all of the emotions Kageyama never could. Let them turn the shade of his love’s hair in the fall. He wanted to be gone from this place. 

He shivered as a new colder feeling slivered its way up his chest. It intertwined with his ribs and strangled is heart. Hinata’s scent of oranges and sunflowers and honey was gone from his nose, his clothes. He panicked as he couldn’t find it anywhere around him. He choked on the unwanted realization that with Kenma in the picture he may never smell it again. The warm smile danced across his mind. His tiny, sweaty hands and soft hair. Kageyama shuddered again. _Oh no._ A new word added to the only coherent phrases forcing their way up his throat. He pulled his knees into his chest hoping foolishly this would protect him from the sharp storm within. _Stupid Kageyama, always rude, always fiesty, a worthless alpha._ He lost Hinata. The only thing he was supposed to have. The omega was supposed to be the one who finally understood him. Who loved him. WHo he could trust and let all those walls around. He wanted to share yogurt and let the small spiker wear his jersey as it would be far too big on him but would smell like Kageyama’s laundry and seaside scent. That of a lighthouse in the rain. But no. _Worthless worthless worthless._ What kind of alpha was he?

At this point he vaguely registered in a far part of his mind that he was probably radiating the rarely seen distressed alpha pheromones, but he was too far gone to actually realize it. He was glued to his spot behind the tree just playing everything on loop. There was this awful feeling of the calm before the storm. The build up before he completely unravelled. It had been years since he had cried. The last time he did was because he skinned his knee badly during practice when he was 10. It had been years since he felt the sickening burn in his eyes. The sting the blur that crossed his vision. He let out a gut wrenching, wet, hard sob. And then another and another before he slapped his hand on his mouth to muffle them. He lurched forward with every spasm. It was messy and wet and completely chaotic. This wasn’t allowed. Alphas, Kageyama wasn’t supposed to cry. Not over stupid orange-haired idiots that weren’t even his mate. Not over hyper balls of sunshine that lit up his life and lead him like a lone shining lantern out of the deep dark woods of loneliness. Not over teammates who he wasn’t even dating. Not over teenagers who were rivals. Not over people who weren’t even his to feel sad over. He had not lost Hinata as he never even had him to lose. That was the part that hurt the most. Kageyama wasn’t allowed to be mad over Hinata choosing Kenma. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. They never had anything going on. So why did it hurt so fucking badly to see the Nekoma setter’s lips on Hinata’s? Too frustrated and hurt to do anything more than strike a defensive pose and try to disappear before anyone saw him.

And that’s how Suga found the young blue-haired setter. Asleep curled up on the grass as the sun went down. Shivering and breathing uneven with hints of hiccups peppered in. Fresh tear tracks ran down his cheeks and his normally expressionless face was contorted in pain and eyes red and puffy. He was a mess. Soft whimpers spilled out as he shook harder. 

Suga looked upon him both pitying and shocked. _What in the world happened little one? Who broke you like this?_ Anyone within a 2 mile radius smelled strange and distressed scent wafting from behind the gymnasium. The scent of a stormy ocean. Like an empty cozy home on overpower trying desperately to find something picturesque to match it and fill it and complete it. It was a messy, forgein, dangerous scent. But Hinata’s always been an idiot. Too scented by Kenma to smell much else. Although the foreign wiff did mildly concern him. It only brought up images of silky navy and strong thick arms, he couldn’t place it. He didn’t understand why he wanted to go to it, comfort it. But kenma’s smell of sweaters and dark peaches pushed away the thoughts.

The moment carved deep into Kageyama’s heart. It left scars and permanent stains of ink spilled in diaries. This was the turning point. This was the lesson. He kept his distance from the spiker. Everyone was confused by the sudden change in personality. They marked it off as Kageyama being himself and reverting to his middle school ways. But only Suga knew better. After lightly awakening the shaking alpha he had held him until he calmed. Scenting him with fresh rain and roses until he began to drift. He managed to haul him home and make sure he was put to sleep safely. Kageyama didn’t show up to practice the next day. Hinata offered to go “drag his ass in here” but Suga gave Diachi a knowing look and shook his head. When the feisty first year had revealed his arrangement with Kenma, Suga put the pieces together. 

Kageyama cut his scent off to everyone. He never showed any emotion except stoic precision. All his growth was trapped once more. _I’m not getting hurt again. I’m never going to cry again._ He promised himself. He would do better, no one would ever get the chance to make him feel that way again. And that was the end of it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets better I promise, chapter 1 was the shakiest writing wise, bear with me


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it takes its toll

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so due to feedback, I'm making another chapter! and hopefully another after that and many more, I have nothing else to do over quarantine! Ik it's short, but hope you enjoy loves

Kageyama’s life had been a series of abandonment. Each one took a little piece of his soul with them. Wrapped up neatly with gold foil with hand drawn hearts on the package. His father, his team, they took their tolls. After a while, when this kind of hurt washes over, wave after wave crashing into you knocking you down so hard you forget how to breathe, there is this moment when it all settles, and the light bubbling of the seafoam and the gentle salty breeze is left. And there is nothing left but exhaustion, and emptiness. This gnawing at the base of your skull trying to sew patches over chasms. The phantom, the ghost of hurt fluttering through your chest, grasping desperately for things that aren’t there anymore. _How can something be there, and then not be there,_ Kageyama thought tonight, _it doesn’t make sense._

Kageyama’s mother had said nothing about his father when he left. He had woken up, 9 years old and scared out of his mind to find his mom utting all of his clothes out on the lawn with an expressionless face. _This house will never smell of that bastard again_. And it was true. The woodsmoke scent had never reappeared. It was gone with the dress shirts on the lawn. Kageyama wasn’t allowed to ask why. 

Suga had asked Daichi multiple times to try and talk to the blue-haired setter, “alpha to alpha”, but there was no getting to him anymore. He didn’t listen, he didn’t want to hear it. Hinata was with Kenma and they were happy. That was the end of the story, that’s where the book closed, where the credits rolled, when the curtains fell, or so he told himself. There was no more bickering and "Hinata Bokeee!!" There was just a set and a nod. That's all he needed. All he could bear. But it was all taking its toll.

Was it unhealthy? Maybe. He stayed late almost every night to set and serve until it felt as if his arms would fall off and crawl off a cliff. He didn't want to go home. Home was nowhere. His _house_ was just a void. His mother is always away in a blazer and pencil skirt with heels sharp enough to cut Titans. She hadn't been back for a while. Probably sipping white wine in a hotel bar somewhere trying to be someone else. Someone who their father didn't abandon. She was selfish. But absent so it didn't matter. He didn't touch people most of the time. He had just learned high fives, but now, nothing. Suga patting him on the back was first unwanted but now it physically burned. Like a hot iron pressing into his shoulder, burning, screaming, branding him The heat wormed its way through him until he finally pulled away. He didn't join group huddles or hugs. Everything was fine. 

He hadn't been sleeping, not really. Lying awake feeling like he'd forgotten something. He would sit in bed in his favorite grey hoodie wondering why it felt like he couldn't find something. He always knew it was crucial, the final missing piece that he'd misplaced, but he could never figure it out. Wrecking his brain into 2:30am wondering what felt empty. Holding himself tight enough that it felt like someone else. There was a tugging sensation in his chest, like a ghost beckoning him to come see his grave. Leave flowers where everyone had forgotten, something was reminding him it was still here. 

The circles under his eyes only grew. The dark blue haze blossomed like watercolor. The calluses on his hands were numerous and painful. The wrappings on his fingers were unraveling and fraying, just like him.

Kageyama was a mess and it was surely taking its toll.

Tonight it was late. Far too late for anyone to be at school. Far too late for children to be awake. He was practicing serves. The hypnotizing rhythm of the ball hitting the floor filled the empty night. He wasn't hitting good shots. They were messy. They kept going out. He would throw it and miss. Everything was getting blurry as his head spun. It was running in circles and playing the cymbals. He whined clutching his throbbing head. 

"Hey Kageyama! I heard a noise, are you good?" Hinata asked, poking his head into the gym. He'd been taking a run outside up and down the hills.

"Yes. Leave" Kageyama yelled. Hinata's once comforting scent burned his nose. The honey was thick and glued his jaws shut sealing in a scream. The sunflower petals clogged his lungs making it hard to breathe. The oranges were so sharp and crisp they cut his skin. The citrus slicing into him. Everything was too much, the lights were too bright, Hinata's footsteps running towards the collapsed, shaking alpha were too loud. He clamped his hands over his ears and shut his eyes but it didn't help. The thing he loved the most was tearing him apart. Kageyama felt like he was dying. Air wouldn't enter his lungs and his breath was ragged just trying to keep him alive. He curled up trying to block out the Omega.

"KAGEYAMA are you ok? Oh my God. Be ok please. GET UP" Hinata yelled in vain. Kageyama was somewhere else. The omega's distressed scent made it so much worse. Everything soured. The oranges rotted and the flowers decayed. He wanted it all to stop. He wanted to breathe again, sleep again, smile again. Why did this stupid little orange haired idiot have this affect on him. 

“I’M NOT HIS,” he screamed to the void of his mind, “HE’S NOT MINE,” but the darkness had no wisdom to share, no secrets to whisper. He whimpered. He would feel embarrassed about that later. 

Hinata knelt beside Kageyama unsure of what to do. He'd never seen an alpha, nay Kageyama, like this. His hands shook and he didn't know where to put them. He wasn't like Suga, he wasn't an angel who knew exactly what to do when people were hurting. He didn't know how to put people back together with soft words carefully chosen. How to gently caress their back until they stopped shaking. He didn't know how to make the nightmares go away. 

But he wanted to try. He pulled Kageyama's head into his lap trying to thread his fingers through that silky, navy hair. But he started shaking more. His temperature could not have been normal, it was way too warm. His forehead was so sweaty.

For the first time in a while Hinata got a good look at the settler's face. The delicate pale features and sharp eyes were contoured and rippled with pain. There were deep shadows under his eyes, they were digging canyons out of his face. He looked haunted. 

Maybe it was the Omega in him but he wanted to make the alpha feel better. Kageyama writhed pitifully in Hinata’s lap simultaneously trying to get away from the summer scent and breathe it in as deeply as possible so that it would never leave his lungs. It could stay there and build a home out of fantasies left unfulfilled. 

Hinata brought his wrist up to Kageyama’s neck, slowly to not frighten the alpha. 

“There you go, I got you,” He said in a small voice while he rubbed cautious, light circles on the setter’s scent gland. 

Hinata was scenting him, a dream come true. However, his Garden of Eden was quickly becoming overgrown with the thorny bushes of a prickly reality: he smelled like Kenma still. The wool of the scent scratched him raw, peeling his skin away. The peaches were too ripe, their sour, fuzzy exterior twisted into snarling faces. It felt like every bone had turned around in his body, facing the wrong way. It felt like he was wearing his skin back to front. 

Life was getting blurry on the edges as he thrashed and whined. Nothing felt or smelled safe or warm anymore. 

“Sh-sh-shhh,” Hinata stuttered and shook as nothing was getting better. He saw Kageyama’s perfect cobalt eyes, those of starless midnights were going unfocused. “Kageyama, come on stay with me,” nothing worked. His ocean breeze and fresh linen scent, like pristine white sheets folded at the beach, was fast fading. Kageyama gave one final whimper before passing out completely. “tobio…?” Hinata said in the smallest, gentlest, fragilest voice he’d ever used in his life, but Kageyama couldn’t hear him anymore, he was lost to the twilight of a mind unknown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be more Hinata's perspective and we'll get some of his reactions to Kageyama's recent behavior. Hopefully I can introduce Oikawa soon enough! As usual, please leave feedback, thoughts, desires, potion recipes, anything. Your comments make my day on the regular :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinata felt like he couldn't breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all!! This chapter is gonna b a longer one, it's also got a lot more dialogue than the last two, but just as much angst! ;)  
> This all from Hinata's perspective and picks up just after the last chapter. However, the last bit is from Kageyama's perspective.

It had been a while since Hinata had been this scared. It was crippling and horrifying. It was the kind of fear that snaked up your spine and wrapped slowly around your ribs. Constricting your lungs, strangling your heart. It was slithering up his neck, crepping, seeping into his mind. His biology was taking over as a whine ripped through his throat. Tears threatening to spill. 

Kageyama’s scent had faded completely from the air. 

The crisp smell was gone. It was fresh and clean. It reminded Hinata of lazy Sunday afternoons changing the bedsheets. The morning light and cloudless sky filtering in from white curtained windows. The sunlight bouncing off picture frames making rainbows on the hardwood floor. It reminded him of vacations to the beach. The warm sand and the salt whipping his face. Natsu squealing as the seafoam tickled her ankles. The perfect cerulean expanse seemingly endless. It was sand in his toes and a sunburn that kept him warm all night. Kageyama’s scent reminded him of wool sweaters on the boardwalk. It was the old lighthouse, weathered and forgotten with the closeline outside blowing aimlessly. It was a fisherman’s striking blue eyes with stories to tell. Kageyama’s scent was peace and adventure simultaneously somehow. And now he couldn’t find it. 

The alpha always seemed so strong, since the moment they locked eyes his knees felt weak. His presence was pure dominance and confidence. But now, as his navy hair draped elegantly over his shadowed, lidded eyes, he had never looked so small. 

Hinata was impulsive. Always doing something, having ideas, full of energy. But it had all abandoned him. For almost the first time ever, his mind was empty. The blank, hollowness spread on for miles. He was quiet. 

_I should get help. Call someone_ he thought finally. 

His movements were sluggish and shaky as he took his phone out of his pocket. His fingers trembled and fumbled on the keypad. One ring, two rings, three. Click. 

“T-tanaka…” hardly a whisper.

“Hinata! Waz up? Is everything ok?” His voice held concern.

“He’s not ok. He passed out. I can’t smell it, I-I-” Hinata’s breath picked up. He shivered clutching the setter closer to his body. Making sure there was still warmth. 

“Hey Hinata it’s alright. Who passed out” Tanaka asked. Worry stitched into words. On his end he motioned for Suga and Daichi to stop walking. They listened in.

“Tobio-he’s-i think- he’s dying” Hinata’s fingers dug into Kageyama’s worn white practice shirt. The fabric his lone tether to reality. That his Tobio had not disintegrated, faded, evaporated from his arms.

“Hey hey, we don’t know that, what’s the matter?” Tanaka responded, panic rising.

“I CAN'T SMELL HIM,” Hinata yelled. Then in a smaller voice, a worse realization, “I, I couldn’t make him better.” He had done everything he could and it wasn’t enough.

“Hinata it’s me, Suga,” He had grabbed the phone knowing the Omega was panicking, “Diachi, Tanaka, and I are on our way. Everything’s gonna be ok. where are you right now?” His tone was soft and warm.

“Bad omega, bad, alpha is hurt,” Hinata rocked back and forth. Sinking down. His mind was running circles and circles. The world narrowed into that one thought. It dug crud roots into his skull. Twisting snarling branches blocking out light.

“Hinata, where are you?” Diachi asked, taking the phone from Suga. The demanding tone of an alpha snapped him out of his trance long enough to answer.

“Gym”

“We’re coming, don’t go anywhere” 

Suga stayed on the phone whispering sweet nothings to Hinata the whole way there, but Hinata had dropped the phone. He held onto Kageyama, fiercely with both arms letting their warmth merge until there was no beginning or end. Hugging him to his chest letting his head rest on the scent gland on his neck while he waited for his upperclassmen to come and fix everything. And ever closer when they loaded him into an ambulance. 

“Sir you have to let go now, I know he’s your alpha but-” The EMT said slowly to the orange-haired spiker. 

“They’re not a couple” Suga finished for him. The worker looked shocked, but tried to loosen Hinata’s grip nonetheless. 

Hinata felt like he was underwater watching events from afar. He was in another dimension, under this one. Time was creeping past, as if it all spun around him in slow motion. It was thick and heavy and blurry. Everything seemed too far away. He felt like he was wading through syrup. The sirens were muffled and muted. The lights blurred. He couldn’t understand a word said to him. 

Sinking. That was the word. He felt as if his heart had been left in the streets, trampled on by thousands of strangers. It had been crushed into the gutters. He felt like a welcome home banner that had smudged and ruined because of the rain or an easter egg never found, left to rot and fade in the backyard. He felt like a guitar string that had broken mid performance, right at the chorus or a well-loved stuffed animal being thrown to the curb as their child got just a bit too old to hold them at night. Irrelevant. Failed. 

He just sat in that white, raw waiting room feeling empty. Like all of his bones had been ripped out and replaced with cosmos of empty space. Blank paper, white rooms, the gentle hum of the copier machines. The room smelled like hand sanitizer and pamphlet paper. The phone rang, a nurse ran by, the AC blasted, no one said a word. 

“You can all come in now,” A man in a white coat said. His name tag read “Dr. Shupack” and he had a clipboard, so he was important obviously. A stiff looking beta with greying hair and soft eyes. Suga got up and Hinata followed suit. 

“Hinata, you sure you wanna come in?” he asked with a kind smile. Hinata just nodded. His wide brown eyes seemed a little unfocused, but Suga nodded and put his hand on the younger’s shoulder leading him forward, anchoring him. 

“He’s still out I’m afraid, the sedative we gave him should be wearing off soon though. His vitals are stable and he’s a healthy 15 year old boy. A fit and strong alpha all around. I’ll get to what happened when he wakes up. Do you know if we can contact his parents at all?” His posture was straight and rigid, his shoes made a hypnotizing click clack noise in the dim room. Hinata hid in the shadows by the door, not daring to step on further. 

“Ah, not to worry there young man, all of these rooms have scent neutralizers, a top ate facility of course,” he said to Hinata. That wasn’t the issue. 

“I’m not sure he doesn’t mention them much..” Suga filled in regarding the Kageyamas.

Suddenly a voice they’d all been waiting to hear spoke up,

“If you manage to get in touch with my father, ask him where he’s been for the past 6 years, I’d be interested to know,” they all spun around in shock, “and if you find my mother I’ll still be surprised that she's not too busy or day- drunk to talk to you. Plus, phone calls to the U.S. are expensive, that is, if she’s even still in the states. I wouldn’t know honestly.” His voice was raspy and harsh as he slowly brought himself into a sitting position. His shoulders slumped. 

Under the bitter bite of his words was a more defeated tone. He looked as if he wanted to slip into the very ocean he smelled of and sink deeper and deeper. Until the blue turned the same color of his hair and the bubbles disintegrated. Like he wanted to become a wave to dance with the moon. Lost in an endless waltz of push and pull and howl and recede, forgetting peppermint, woodsmoke, and especially sunflowers. Seasick forever.

“Where’s Hinata? What happened?” He asked frantically, sitting up a little straighter, his eyes going wide to search the dark room. 

“You were in the gym and passed out for some reason. Hinata said you were kinda freaking out,” Suga filled in coming closer to Kageyama. If the omega wanted to hide for the moment, he would let him.

“Psh, it was nothing, just haven’t been sleeping lately,”he said, crossing his arms defensively and looking away. Unable to meet those brown grey eyes that bore into his soul and drew out his secrets like fish on a hook or china for dinner. 

“I’m afraid it’s more than that young man,” Everyone’s eyes shot to the professional forgotten at the end of his bed, “your body prepared itself to mate someone, to bond, and then it was shut down completely. This caused a shock response akin to breaking a bond or having a partner die. I don’t know the circumstance I’m aware, but if you keep going like this the mental, emotional, and even physical stress it puts on you will have serious health detriments,”

Hinata felt like he couldn’t breathe. _An omega?_ Why hadn't Kageyama told him there was someone special? And what was this sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach? It was a growing ball of too many different emotions. It was weighing him down, gluing him to the brown door. Small tears formed in the corners of his golden dull eyes. They danced on the edges of his lashes threatening to fall. _Why?_ Why hadn’t Kageyama told him anything? He had thought they were close. They were invincible together. They were a glacier digging valleys out of mountains, sharpened, crude spears piercing steel armor. They were a team, so why was there always so much more that Hinata didn’t know? Everytime he learned more there were still skyscrapers unknown about what went on behind the alpha’s closed doors. 

The thought of the blue-haired boy coming home to an empty house, eating alone at table meant for 4 hurt Hinata to no extent. He imagined all the warm hugs from Natsu and his parents. All the laughs and stories told over steaming home-cooked dinner and the warm light of candles. Kageyama got none of that? He clutched the front of his shirt trying to ease the aching in his chest.

But there was someone else? Someone had swooped in and broken _his_ setter’s heart. It ignited a fire in him. The flames licked his ribcage and filled his lungs. They burned and sizzled, but they were hot and bright. _WHO?_

“So what do I do, huh?” Kageyama asked, annoyed, done with people giving him problems and no solutions. “What now?”

The doctor clicked his pen and tapped his chin, “usually in phantom breaking, as we dub it, you have a recuperation period where you must stay away from the other party for a matter of months, as well as consistent checkups and rest-” 

“Not happening. We have games. I have to play.” Kageyama interrupted. He stated with enough finality that the doctor took the hint. There was no way he would give up the only constant in his life, volleyball. The one thing that made sense. The one goal that would never change. “Is there any other option?” 

The doctor thought for a second and then perked up. He pushed his glasses up higher on his nose, “Yes actually, it’s a relatively new program though,” 

“That’s fine. What do I have to do,” 

“Well you spend time around another omega, doing things like scenting and hugging to get your body to….calm down. It lasts about three weeks and it’s been a success with many other patients. You would ease out of this period of... emotional confusion, and you’ll be able to be around whoever it was, again. I know sports are very important to you, so I would urge you to consider it,” He checked his watch and must have decided time was up, “I’ll leave the agency’s card here for you. Please call.” And with that he gave Hinata a small smile on his way out. 

Hinata followed him out and dashed down the hall. He ran down the stairs, down the street. He ran until it felt like his lungs would collapse. He ran until his legs burned and wobbled. He ran away from everything undecipherable and frightening in that room. The cool air of the evening slapped him in the face and cleared his mind. He wanted to scream and cry at the same time. Until his vocal chords unravelled and tied him up like ropes. Until his screams just bounced and echoed off the walls, knocking into him, pushing him into the coarse, cold concrete.

Someone had just broken Kageyama’s heart, why should there be another one? A protective growl ripped through his throat surprising even himself. Hinata couldn’t explain anything anymore. Everything was moving too fast. Like he was standing in the middle of a time lapse of the city at night. The lights blazing by him. 

Who should he call? He took out his worn yellow phone, the peeling and fading stickers his little sister had gifted him still on the back and scrolled through his contacts, KENMA! _How did I not think so call my boyfriend??_ Hinata mentally scolded himself as he clicked the call button next to the heart emoji after Kenma’s name. One ring, two, three, four, five, “The person who you are trying to call right now is not available, leave a message after the beep..” Hinata sighed. As per usual. He was probably playing a game right now, he was busy. Hinata understood, he always had to, and vowed to call back later. So he began the jog back home trying to not feel his gut twist as he pushed away his wish that Kageyama was running beside him once more.

Meanwhile……(at the hospital)

“I won’t do it. I was doing alright before, I can do it again,” Kageyama said, breaking the long silence that followed the doctor’s absence. Suga frowned whipping his head around to face the younger setter,

“You weren’t ok though,” he held the alphas lethe, pale hand tight, “you passed out for god sake! Do you know how worried I was to get a call from Hinata in tears saying he thought you were dying?? Do you understand how scared I was? What about Daichi who ran three red lights trying to get here? Or Tanaka who couldn’t stop tapping his foot or looking out the window, waiting until we arrived?? What about Hinata holding your limp body in his lap when we found you. He was crying and shaking, repeating over and over that he couldn’t find your scent in the air. Do you know how dazed and frightened and small he looked. No one wanted to let go of you in the ambulance. When we got to the gym my heart dropped straight down. Into the floor, into the core of the Earth, I couldn’t breathe Tobio.” He took a deep breath to calm down,

“I know you’re hurting, but don’t think that you don’t matter to other people. When you keep flinching away from pats on the back and cutting yourself off, it hurts people around you too. We are your team. And when you are in pain, we feel it too, in different ways that you may not realize. Don't do this. Please call the number. I want you to play, but I never want to experience what happened today ever again. And I know you don’t either.” Suga sighed and got up as the setter wouldn’t look him in the eye.

“Take care of yourself, ‘kay?” And he walked out letting the echo of the door closing sing symphonies to fill the empty air. 

Kageyama just sat there, the scratchy, thin blanket rubbing against his legs. He picked up his phone off the bedside table and stared into the bright light. _Whatever I have to do._ And dialed the number before he could convince himself otherwise. One ring, two, click,

“ _Hello?”_ The voice on the other end called,

“Hi, My name is Kageyama Tobio, Dr. Shupack told me to call.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for readying as per usual! Leave comments they are my will to keep writing <3  
> Chapter 4 was written before three fun fact!  
> Love you all :D  
> *The peppermint scent was referring to Kageyama's mother, sorry that wasn't very clear


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His smile didn't quite reach his eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa is finally here! Sad talks :(  
> I'm kinda struggling with balancing my descriptive style and actual plot/dialogue, but I did my best. How tf was this 8 pages in google docs and like nothing here???  
> I listened to the song "Is It Just Me?" by Emily Burns like the entire time I was writing this and I think the song matches pretty well, if ya wanna check it out and get into my head. Idk, either way enjoyyyyy

“No. I’m not doing it. I’m out,” Kageyama immediately decided when a certain Aoba Johsai setter sat down next to him in the hospital bed. _This was the ‘recovery partner’?_

“WHat? Is that anyway to treat your senpai??” The brown haired diva asked with mock indignation.

“Anyone, they could have sent anyone, but you,” 

“Shush now. I’m here to help. It’s good that we already know each other! I get to spend so much time with my little Tobio. No tell me who it was? I’m guessing #10? Chibi-chan?” He poked Kageyama’s cheek.

“SHut up. You don’t know anything,” He crossed his arms and turned away batting away the arm.

“So that’s a yes then. I called it,” He sang.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I just want to play, and if being around you here and there is the only way to do it, so be it.” Kageyama bit

“But I _do_ know what you’re going through, why do you think I’m a volunteer in this program?” Oikawa asked rhetorically, cocking an eyebrow. Kageyama was fuming,

“Look you don’t know shit ok. Every single atom of my being screams to be around him, to touch him. To let him sink into my arms and envelop him in my ocean. To breathe in his scent, let it fill my lungs to the brim, my whole existence. But when I’m in his presence it burns. It stings. I feel like I’m choking on his light. It’s seeping into the cracks of my skull, corroding my soul from the inside out. I feel like I’m dying. But I want his orange hair. I want all of my broken pieces to be glued together with honey and stuffed with sunflowers. I want it, I want _him_ MORE THAN ANYTHING I’VE EVER WANTED. So why….why does it hurt? You don’t understand me at all Oikawa. I think this is dumb and I was doing just fine before. I’m only here cause I need to be able to play on the same court as him. That’s it.” He panted after his outburst. The silence that followed was hefty. It was a bowstring pulled tight, waiting to snap. But Oikawa took a deep breath and sighed, stepping closer. 

“Tobio,” Oikawa asked. A quiet voice. “Do remember my knee injury from last year?”

A grunt was all he got in response. 

“Yeah, that wasn’t actually a volleyball injury,” he said with a chuckle. There was a lilt of sadness behind it though. There was a story behind this one, a tale of magnitude. This was such an unhappy memory that lacing it with anything other than a light laugh would mean shattering to pieces. Allowing it its rightful place as hand in hand with tears was a luxury he couldn’t afford. 

Now Kageyama’s ears perked up, he turned to face the older setter, his confusion portrayed in his eyes. 

“Some backstory I guess,” He sat down next to Kageyma and linked his fingers together in his lap. There was a deep sigh. “I’ve been in love with my best friend since I was 5 years old.”

Oikawa couldn’t meet Kageyama's eyes. 

“Iwaizumi?” he asked with wide eyes.

“Mhm, Iwa-chan the one and only.”

“Are you two?...” 

“No,” he said forcefully, begrudgingly. He took a breath. “No little Tobio,” he added in a softer tone, “I wish. God I wish I could say yes to that question.”

“What does this have to do with your knee?” Kageyama asked, tilting his head quizzically. 

“I’m getting to that part geez. Let me wallow dramatically for a little will ya,” Oikawa ruffled his navy hair playfully, but the small smile did not reach his eyes. Another grunt.

“Iwa-chan was everything. _My_ spiker. He would always look out for me, remind me not to work too hard, eat my lunch, ya know, stuff. The omega in me _loved_ it. I basked in his praise, his very presence like it was sunlight. It warmed me to the core in rainstorms. I could have lived with the ‘shittykawa’s I got. I told myself that was enough. I knew he wasn’t into guys, he wasn’t into my bullshit really. Iwa-chan liked perfect little giddy, girly omegas. I wanted to be his setter forever though. Feel that skip of my heart when I saw him for just a little while longer. Let me pretend he was my alpha forever,” Oikawa told it in such a melancholy tone. It sounded like happy memories. But the kind you can’t enjoy anymore. They’ve been spoiled. As if the beautiful sunset they walked home in had faded, turning into a cold night.

“I rolled up his sleeves when he ate and we walked home together. His mother loves me, she doesn’t know what happened. Do you know how hard it is to see her bright smile on my way home while she asks me why I never come over for dinner anymore. She asks me if I’m ok and I have to look into her eyes, his same eyes, and say everything’s fine. Lie to her that I’m just busy with school, but one of these days.” He played with his fingers more aggressively in his lap. Pulling at them. His eyebrows were creased, chocolate brown orbs trained on the floor. His snickerdoodle and caramel scent infiltrated the air. 

Oikawa took a big breath shutting his eyes and leaning his head back. He reigned in his scent again.

“Sorry Tobio I should be able to control it better,” he said after a moment.

“S’okay'' Kageyama mumbled back. He fiddled with his long, pale fingers waiting for the omega to continue whenever he was ready. 

“Right so, my knee. I dragged Iwa to a party one Saturday night. Called him a dork for just rewatching Godzilla on a wonderful summer night when we’re ‘young and wild’” he waved his hands around. A smirk crawled onto his face, but the reminessent expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“I got a little tipsy per se…” He said looking away, “but don’t go about drinking until you’re of age ok Tobio! Promise me ok, don't trust your senpai!” Kageyama rolled his eyes.

“Fine, promise.” Oikawa narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but continued, despite believing that was complete bullshit. 

“Anyhow, I found my Iwa-chan at the top of the stairs after a few drinks. And God, Tobio, you should have seen him right then and there, maybe it was the cheap bear in my solo cup, but lord he looked ethereal. Maybe it was the colored lights hitting his face, casting shadows in all the right places like a stained glass window at the chapel at the top of the world, illuminating my favorite dark eyes with reds and blues. Maybe it was the fact that time seemed to stop, it was like moving through syrup, sweet and thick. It slowed down just for one minute, just for me. So I could pause, knocked off my feet in freefall, stunned speechless. Maybe it was his smile, knowing, comfortable, kind. Tobio, he’s so kind, so good to me, puts up with everything I do just to make him mad. 

I think this is the moment I can pinpoint that I knew it was love. Why when I see his spiky hair my chest feels fuzzy, and heart tries to escape its prison of bones or when he went away to ‘all alpha’ summer camp I felt hollow and aimless for days. Why it physically hurt to see other girls hanging off his gorgeous tanned arms from afar. I realized how much that dark chocolate and spicy cinnamon scent meant to me. The world slowed for just a millisecond, just for me, just for me to admire my Iwa-chan. 

Or maybe just maybe it was just a fucking clusterfuck of destiny. Some cruel joke of fate. Millenia of tiny butterfly flaps building up to this one perfect moment of epiphany..” Oikawa paused his voice breaking, “or maybe it was all in my head anyway. Maybe, maybe I imagined it all, maybe I was drunk,” He took another deep breath and let his head hang in his hands.

“w-what happened next..?” Kageyama asked, fear laced in his curiosity. Oikawa swallowed hard.

“I pushed it too far I guess. I misread the situation. I was...wrong. So horribly wrong. I-” It was hard to say, “I kissed him. Well I tried to at least. He pushed me away almost immediately, looked shocked and confused and…..disgusted,” He clenched his teeth and shut his eyes, “You know Iwa-chan, so strong, what a hunk really. A bit too strong I guess,” he recounted with a sigh and a lighter tone, but Kageyama wasn’t stupid, he knew where this was going. 

“no…” he said in a small voice. 

“Yeah, I guess the alcohol inebriates your balance too, and well, with that one shove I fell down the stairs.” They sat like that in silence for a while. Just the two of them, broken highschool boys. 

“How could he?” Kageyama asked, he was getting mad, defensive even. 

“Shhh, easy now, he didn’t mean to hurt me,” Oikawa started rubbing small circles on Kageyama’s hand releasing his sugary, cozy scent to calm the alpha. 

“Stop making excuses for him!” Kageyama yelled. 

“Shhh, It’s alright. It’s just that, Iwa-chan looked so shocked when I fell, I tumbled down a bit, flailing embarrassingly I’m sure,” He added a laugh to lighten the thick, heavy layer of misery in the air, it didn’t work. “I screamed at the bottom, I think. The kind of wail that comes from the depth of your chest. The kind that shatters eardrums and starts wars. A requiem of both physical and emotional pain….

Iwa-chan, after all of that, still rushed down the stairs to my curled up form at the bottom. I didn’t want to see him, I didn’t want him to see me anymore. I was gross and broken. He tried to pull me up to check for injuries but I screamed and pulled my arm away. I wanted anyone, anyone but him right now. I couldn’t meet the betrayal, the disappointment in his eyes. An unspoken rule, a treaty, had been violated. The truth we dared not speak of. Everyone was staring, but no one helped. Iwa-chan was the only one who could really tolerate me I think. 

I passed out, the concussion was taking its toll I suppose. Someone must have called an ambulance. And that was that,” Oikawa looked Kageyama in the eyes again. He sniffed and held the younger alpha’s hand tighter. 

“And then what?” Kageyama asked, brows furrowed, “Did you two make up?” Oikawa’s mouth twitched, 

“Not exactly Tobio. I mayyyyy have pretended that I forgot all about it,” Kageyama’s navy eyes went wide. Oikawa continued nonetheless, “I blamed the alcohol or the fall, I didn’t feel like talking about it. God, I _wish_ I’d forgotten that. The look he gave me when he came to visit me in the hospital, he’d never look at me the same. I’d broken something between us Tobio. And I don’t know how to fix it. Some cracks never heal, they grow and stretch, and gape, and swallow. And there’s nothing we know to do about it. I think his mom had dragged him there anyway. 

She brought the most beautiful light pink peonies. They were fluffy and fresh. But Iwa-chan stood back the whole time. He hung back by the doorway like he couldn’t wait to leave. All I could think was _how did we get here?_ An uncomfortable goodbye and silence. 

Father sent me a scathing email, ‘disappointed, but expected’ as I told everyone I was drunk and fell. I didn’t want him to get in trouble-”

“That’s wrong, you should have told someone!” Kageyama interrupted. 

“I’m telling you now am I not? Ya feisty little alpha” Oikawa countered, “not everything works out sometimes. We don’t always get what we want, _who_ we want,” He added finally.

“I hate it. It’s not fair, what does KENMA have that I don’t?” Kageyama asked desperately. 

“I don’t know, but I do know how it hurts and it sucks. And you’re gonna spend days crying in the shower and lying awake at night missing their scent. But look at me,” He held the setter’s face so their eyes met, “A year later, and I’ve finally stopped rereading old messages and obsessing over every letter. I stopped lying awake at night punching the pillow, sobbing. I stopped cutting nicks into the scent glands on my neck just to feel something. I stopped putting my phone on airplane mode so I had an excuse as to why he never texted me anymore. I started wearing my seatbelt again. And I started going out with friends, hey I started going outside again. I started enjoying volleyball again. I stopped eating copious amounts of dark chocolate while listening to his favorite songs. Things get better. I started valuing my own life again, I started _living_ again, and you will too my little Tobio.” 

“When? They say it gets better soon, WHEN OIKAWA?? Huh, when will I feel okay again?..” He yanked his head away and crossed his arms, “When will this stupid heavy pain in my chest that just follows me finally fade? How do I look into the light he provides in every room he walks into without being blinded? How do I stop it from searing my eyes? How do I stop giving him pieces of myself he’ll never return?”

“I can’t say, I don’t know.” Oikawa admitted. There was a pregnant pause as the reality of how lost they were settled over them. The hurt knit into a blanket, tucked them in, and weighed them down into the core of the Earth. 

After a while, Kageyama finally asked the question on everyone’s mind, “Do you still love him?” Tears welled in both of their eyes. Tittering on the edge of their lashes.

“With all my heart,” he admitted, “He broke me to pieces Tobio, unintentionally yes, so how come I still adore him with every shard?” another question with no answer, “every breath I take I think of him. I even had a dream the other night.... where I slept in his arms. They were strong and his chest was warm a-and his T-shirt was soft, it was everything I ever wanted and it felt so real...I woke up with that crushing emptiness, that ache deep in your soul searching for pieces that were long ripped out, their edges still raw and throbbing, and I didn’t know who to call” They sat in an understanding silence. He didn’t need to explain more. 

Oikawa filled the space again, “I almost dropped ya know. Months ago,” he said in such a quiet voice Kageyama almost didn’t hear him. 

“W-what?”

“And I never told him about that, I didn’t want him to worry, I said we were on vacation while I was in the clinic.”

“Toruu-”

“I know, I’m alright now. After that I enrolled in this program. So little ones like you don’t make the mistakes I made. Don’t feel the pain I did….so you wouldn’t be alone like I was.”

“Are you mad at him?” Kageyama asked bluntly, “for everything? He caused you to drop for god sake.”

“No. I couldn’t be. Are you mad at Hinata?”

“Why am I not even _allowed_ to be mad? WHY CAN’T I BE MAD AT HIM?” 

“Because you love him,” Oikawa stated with finality, as if it explained everything. Kageyama sighed,

“He was supposed to be mine ya know. He was supposed to be the one. Who I could let in. He was supposed to be my final opponent, but...now what?” He sounded so lost. He put everything into Hinata and now that it wasn’t an option anymore, he didn’t know where else to put it. He was looking out on an expanse of land, an empty, dry landscape of the plains at dawn, and he had no idea which direction was north. 

“Now you heal. We move on. Shattering a person like that, means an opportunity to rebuild yourself in a different way, repurpose the bits of glass.” Oikawa instructed.

“Is that what you did? You’re quieter now, calmer really.” Kageyama said, recalling the diva of a senpai he was used to. 

“I can’t tell if it’s better or worse, but Iwa-chan doesn’t have to deal with me and my bullshit anymore. So it’s all alright now.” He said, as if he were trying to convince himself more than anyone.

“Is it really?”

“It has to be Tobio. I don’t know what else there is to do.” He said desperately, putting his head in his hands. This time it was Kageyama’s turn to fill the silence,

“The worst part is I loved loving him. I enjoyed it. It gave me something to wake up for the morning. Now what?” He remembered Hinata’s bright smile, lighting up the school when the sun wasn’t up yet, and their morning races that meant more to him than anyone could hope to understand. 

“You find something new to love. To wake up for. And you’ll love that so much you forget the pain, and what loving Hinata felt like.”

“I’m not sure I want to forget that,” Kageyama admitted. Lose that fluttering in his chest? Lose all of those memories, the triumphs, the losses, the harder days when nothing worked, but the incredible bliss of everything fitting into place. 9 and 10, next to each other for a reason. Hinata brought out the best in him, did he really want to lose all of that? “Have you found it yet Oikawa? Something new?”

“No….not yet,” He said with a sigh. His shoulders slumped. He looked so _tired_ , “we can find it together though ok” He ruffled Kageyama’s hair and wrapped him in a tight hug. 

“Do you believe that?”

“I have no other ideas.” He admitted.

“It really sucks.” Kageyama said, his voice shaking, turning his head into the brunette’s chest so he wouldn’t see the tears as he trembled. Oikawa breathed in the clean, clear sea breeze and released some of his own soft, sweet scent. They could be broken hearted together at least.

“Ya know, I think this anecdote was a worse idea than I thought.” He said as he held Kageyama tight and let sprinkles of tears fall into his silky hair. “We’ll be alright, maybe not now, but we will be soon.” He pet small circles on the younger’s back to ease the shaking.

Kageyama leaned into the hug, two lonely souls, abandoned by the traitorous heart, doomed to rot in the afterthoughts of the universe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How'd I do? I honestly have no idea where this is going anymore. My outline ended here....So if ya'll have anything you wanna see hmu. I kinda wanna write the whole thing from Iwaizumi's pov because AlL iS nOt WhAt iT sEeMs!! Lemme know if that's something you'd wanna see. Thanks for reading :)))))


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The silence was so much worse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Sorry this took me so long to write, I just wasn't feeling it and so I kept putting it off. I was hella psyched about chapter 6 so I wrote a bunch of that to procrastinate 5, so it should be up soon!! This is Hinata's POV and Kenma backstory.  
> Huge thanks to Leonzite for the ideas, it really helped me find the direction I wanted to take this!!  
> I have a new format with extra spaces cause I find really close paragraphs hard to read, if you don't like it lmk, just trying something out.  
> Enjoy :D

Hinata waited outside the drink machine as per usual waiting for Kageyama so they could race to the gym. The sun was shining pleasantly illuminating the daffodils just blooming in the grass. Well worn road fresh from the morning rain sparkled under the afternoon light. The birds belting the ballad of the first wisps of spring, the breeze soft and warm. 

Five minutes, seven minutes, ten minutes. Kageyama wasn’t usually late, but Hinata would be if he didn’t leave for the gym now. Weird.  _ He always gets milk before practice.  _ He mused as he made his way over, the sound of volleyballs slapping the ground becoming louder as he approached. 

He entered the gym and the sight that graced his eyes was one out of a nightmare.  _ Oikawa’s _ arm snaked around Kageyama, the inside of his wrist rubbing small, hypnotic circles on the younger setter’s pale neck. Kageyama seemed uncomfortable with all eyes on him, but certainly not with the holiday cookie scent, slithering into his body. Hinata could smell caramel, cookies, and his own pure rage as Oikawa handed the alpha a small carton of his usual milk drink which he happily slurped down purring contentedly. 

Hinata was struck with the site. It burned into his eyes, the after image branding his brain. Kageyama, his setter, in the arms of someone else. Oikawa’s tanned skin wrapped him up and his sweet scent created a bubble around them. He looked so….happy. Hinata couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his partner looking so relaxed. Like all of the tension evaporated from his shoulder blades, fluttering and dissipating into the stuffy air of the gym. Alpha purrs, so solemnly heard, especially from a certain rather stoic blue haired one, reverberated within Hinata, clanging against the inside of his skull. Banging against his sternum. The sight was so peaceful, like out of a movie scene, and yet it all seemed wrong somehow. Hinata couldn’t help but feel that Oikawa shouldn’t be there. 

He realized that Kageyama had skipped their daily race, their ritual to meet with the Aoba Johsai setter. He had abandoned, nay, replaced the red-head with another omega, letting Hinata wait and worry at  _ their _ spot. The spiker couldn’t figure out if he wanted to whine or growl. He wanted to claw and scratch and rip Oikawa’s jacket into shreds and take back what was his, but also to curl up on the waxed hardwood and let his tears trickle out and water the dandelions growing between the pavement. When they were fully grown he could wish upon one, asking for  _ his _ alpha back. 

That realization was even more shocking than Oikawa’s presence.  _ God I thought I was over that _ ….He thought before putting as much distance between the “happy couple” as possible to put on his shoes. 

Oikawa didn’t leave when practice started. Hinata thought he was developing a twitch in his eye. He always felt eyes on his back. Like the older omega was seeing if staring hard enough would give him X-Ray vision and he could look straight through him. 

They were doing a simple 3 on 3 game. Kageyama was on his team now, Nishinoya in the back. A perfect receive, a perfect set as expected, and a world ending spike. The jump was good, he could feel the air wosh through his hair, ruffling the orange strands. He could feel the sting of his palm as the ball made contact. He could hear the satisfying slap of the vinyl on the wood. That ball was perfect, untouchable, unstoppable, 9 and 10 were perfect, untouchable, unstoppable. He felt on top of the world when he hit spikes like that. 

He turned to high five Noya and then faced his setter and looked at him with those eyes. Those eyes that turned to gold, sparkling, glowing when they looked at Kageyama. They held such warmth and pride it was hard to bask in their focus for too long without fearing it would burn you. That bright, blinding smile. It took over his whole face, almost splitting his skull in two, each muscle working in tandem to express one, overwhelming emotion. Kageyama couldn’t handle it. He froze in Hinata’s headlights. 

The setter let out a whine, a sound so pitiful ad screeching everyone winced and resisted the urge to cover their ears. He clutched his head as if there was a fire burning it up from the inside. The alpha doubled over and shivered. Hinata ran closer to help,  _ it’s happening again _ . But soon his path was blocked by an older setter and the phrase, 

“I think I’ll take it from here everyone.” Daichi called a 5 minute break and a switching of the teams. Hinata was still standing there, lost. He mindlessly walked over to the bench and robotically sat down not quite knowing what emotion to feel right now. He didn’t know where to look or what to do with his hands or what expression to put on his face. 

Oikawa wrapped his arms around the smaller setter, whispering sweet nothings in his ear and rubbing kind circles on his back letting the warmth from his hand bring him back. He guided Kageyama’s head to the scent gland on his neck, but the alpha kept pulling away as if the contact burned his skin. He hissed and scratched Oikawa’s arms, probably drawing blood, but the older setter didn’t even flinch. Calm, soft, warm, in control. A perfect omega, finally something recognizable bubbled up in Hinata’s stomach, something ugly and twisted, jealously. It boiled and splattered all over his chest tugging and pulling his heart in 50 different directions. 

And suddenly Kageyama gave in, he seemed to melt into the touch. His silky navy bangs fell over Oikawa’s shoulder as he breathed in the sugary scent from the source. His arms went limp as he leaned into the omega, finally giving into the comfort and solace Oikawa provided. 

Hinata looked away unable to watch any longer. 

He recalled when he first met the alpha. A day that would be the first page in the leather bound book of Hinata Shoyo, the day that changed everything. 

The King. Hinata didn’t need to smell him or even be close to tell he was an alpha, just that pure, raw, domination that radiated from his cobalt eyes in waves. Waves that pulled Hinata in like a riptide, a whirlpool, he knew it was dangerous, but he would turn to seafoam and salt if it meant getting to be near the mysterious navy-haired setter. 

His body obviously had taken a liking to his scent too, as when the team walked by and the clear, blue ocean scent washed over him his knees almost buckled. Excusing himself out of nerves to the bathroom to prevent slick from running down his leg, Hinata ran. Knowing that he needed to get away, but every instinct and bone in his body begging, screaming to run back to the powerful alpha and be safe for a while. 

Unfortunately, he met some shady company, two other alphas from Kageyama’s team, leering at him, teasing about his height, his secondary gender, and his team. They backed him into a wall, blocking out the fluorescent lights, sealing him within their grasp. 

Hinata could have been done for right then and there. Another statistic, 3rd page of the newspaper picture, a story told as a warning, but the universe was kind. She took pity. And the fabled king showed up just in time, his scent practically tangible in the air, he could taste the salt, a tsunami crashing over the boys who towered over Hinata. He put them in their place, with ease, but never even for a second coddled or pitied Hinata.  _ That, him, that’s what I want _ Hinata had vowed, standing in the hallway alone, chasing the tendrils of summer afternoons that trailed around the corner as Kageyama left.

At first he had run it over again and again in his mind and came to the naive conclusion that he just wanted to play this “Kageyama Tobio” again, that his Volleyball prowess was what enchanted him, what made him crave the presence of the setter once more. But seeing him in that gym, clear as day, the dappled sunlight from dusty windows making his peculier hair shine, the truth became harder to shove and lock away in the peripheral of his mind. 

Hinata hung onto every word of the story of his past, his rose tinted glasses had darkened to red quickly. His heart ached for the alpha, the way his body seemed to freeze up to set, unable to look beside him in fear that only dry air filled the spot of his spiker. But Hinata’s shout of “I’m Here” rang through the gym. It ricocheted off every wall and straight into Kageyama’s core. 

Hinata promised to himself to keep yelling that he was there. To keep reminding the alpha until his voice was hoarse and scratchy. The past would always be there, but Hinata, he wanted to be the future. He wanted Kageyama to set without fear, to simply hear “I’m here” and feel at ease. With that one phrase, know that he was not alone anymore, that he was not the same person anymore, that he could turn around and Hinata would always be there, his orange hair animated by the wind, brown eyes shut, trusting him with every molecule, every atom of his being.

But it didn’t quite work out that way. Kageyama and him fought constantly. The setter would pull his hair, and never said his name without a “boke!” after it. They would yell and scream and shred it all up. Hinata would bike home knowing that the alpha would never be his. People who liked each other didn’t shove, and shake, and hit, and shout, and insult. Kageyama would never let down his guard, and certainly not around Hinata. Or so he thought. 

When he met Kenma that fateful day, lost on a run, the Nekoma Setter was strangely familiar. That kind of stoic genius, the same mysterious, foreboding, ancient sadness behind their eyes struck him. The kind of look they gave empty air when they thought no one else was looking, like they had felt or seen something that never quite left them, that haunted the outskirts of their vision and came back in soft eyes and sad smiles. Kenma was kind, and gentle, and quiet, and he liked Hinata, which was a characteristic Kageyama seemed to lack. They were happy...ish. 

But there was something missing, the gaping void of it staring at him night after night, but he could never place what would fit in the space. It seemed like the word on the tip of your tongue, or late night deja vu, inexplicably obvious and yet so far out of his reach. He would stare at Kenma’s blonde strands, lit up by the setting summer sun, and wonder why he still felt empty. 

If possible, the situation with Kageyama got even worse. One day out of blue he stopped speaking to him all together. Hinata had sat up far into the a.m. wracking his brain for where he went wrong.  _ Did I do something, say something?  _ But the ceiling of his room had no secrets to share. He had tried to share his concerns with Suga, but the older omega had shut him down, saying  _ I think that’s a question you should ask him, not me.  _

The silence was sickening, numbing. He was desperate, confused, worried…..scared. Terrified that Kageyama had indeed gone back to his old ways as Tsukishima had joked. Terrified that he had messed up in some irreversible, catastrophic way. Terrified that he had failed at reminding him that there were always others who cared, who would help him up if he fell. Terrified that it wouldn’t matter if Hinata screamed or screeched that he was there. He had always wanted the fighting to stop, but the nothingness it left behind was unimaginably, exponentially worse. 

Because of Kenma, Hinata would visit Tokyo as much as he could, it was hard as he didn’t exactly have an income, but they made it work sometimes. He knew Kuroo and Tsukishima did. The blonde seemed to only be manageable when he was around the rooster-haired captain. The hard edges seemed to melt away into light blushes as the tension would evaporate from his shoulders, the tartness of his strawberry scent merging with the smoke and gingersnap one. Who would have thought it would smell so good. Hinata would often find himself staring at them, wondering why he never felt that kind of safety and warmth with Kenma. 

Honestly, the majority of his time in Tokyo would always be spent sitting there watching Kenma. Watching Kenma watch Kuroo. Silently observing side glances underneath the hair that fell in his face. How the small peaks at Kuroo laughing went unnoticed by everyone else. They didn’t go on dates, not really. Kenma needed Hinata when he needed Kuroo but the captain wasn’t there.  _ I suppose I’m just as selfish. _ Hinata thought absentmindedly tonight. He was at Kenma’s house for the first time, playing Mario Kart but evidently not very focused on the game. They couldn’t keep going like this. Just dragging along, cementing cracks in their hearts, filling the hollow spaces with cotton. Playing house to forget, so he made up his mind, 

“Hey Kenma,” he placed his controller down, losing immediately, “What are we doing anymore?” The beta looked confused when the game over blared on screen,

“Um… we  _ were _ playing games…” he began setting up a new round. 

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

“Dating then? Courting I guess” he stared at the worn surface of the couch, picking at the threads of his sweater cuffs. 

“You guess…” Hinata repeated, in a whisper that seemed to only be for himself. “Kenma, we never go on real dates, I see you once a month, we call like once a week. You never answer my texts-” He was laying it all out. The issues they always overlooked, the ones that Hinata pushed from his mind every night, not wanting to acknowledge the demons. Cause if he did, they would become real, and his illusion would shatter. If they didn’t talk about it, they wouldn’t have to do anything about it. They could just dance on their toes lightly avoiding stepping on the broken glass at their feet, never stopping as to recognize the pain of the shards. Kenma interrupted the list,

“I’m playing games, or at school, or doing homework, life is busy” He said a bit too fast, still not meeting the spiker’s eyes. 

“No. It’s not that,” Hinata grabbed the beta’s hand, he flinched from the touch, “Kenma can you please look at me, put down the game,” Kenma whipped his head around to meet his gaze. He looked scared, frightened, terrified. The blonde strands fell in front of his face as his stooping shoulders threatened to swallow him whole. Something in the beta was broken, the gold eyes didn’t shine as bright as before. They were the eyes of a soldier who had lost one too many battles to keep polishing his metals. 

“Are you still happy?” He asked after a pause and a heavy sigh The real question, the million dollar ask, the dreaded confrontation:  _ should we end it?  _ was left unsaid, it was slithering its way between the lines weaving tapestries depicting futures hard to witness.

“I know it’s him you want,” Kenma looked guilty, averting his gaze once more, afraid his expression would give away the truth. Hinata took another leap,“Aren’t both of us filling spaces? I’m not sure you want me for  _ me, _ ” he paused, not wanting to accuse the beta of anything, he struggled to word his thoughts “you want me for being everything he’s  _ not.  _ If you couldn't have Kuroo, you wanted his counterpart, his opposite.” Hinata had the same infectious optimism and enthusiasm. The kind that made everyone want to believe in them, be by their side, but on the other side of the spectrum. Cool red and warm orange, so close and yet so far… 

Kenma was taping his heart together, stuffing it with wool so he wouldn’t feel the gape, the raw edges, but it would never close and stitch itself up again either. 

“I know you’re waiting for him-” Hinata started after the tense pause.

“And you’re wishing for Kageyama,” Kenma said, finally meeting Hinata’s golden orbs once more. He said it with defeat so poorly covered by malice. “I know everytime we kiss you wish it were him. And whenever I scent you you recoil almost imperceivably because you wish it smelled like the coast waters,” Kenma knew how to read and look for the tiny, subconscious movements that gave away everyones’ inner most desires. The flinches, the eye twitches, the eyebrow raises, he was trained. He was an english major in reading people. They could try with their mindscape masks and smiles, but they couldn’t hide him.

Hinata opened his mouth to argue but then his shoulders sagged and he seemed to accept the accusation. After all this time, he guessed his heart still betrayed him.

“I-I’m sorry Kenma….we shouldn’t have done this..” Hinata let go of the beta’s hand. There was no other possible outcome than it all burning in a bonfire, igniting and swallowing them both. They had known that coming into it, but heartbreak is a fickle thing. It makes us all lose our minds. 

“Will the time ever be right for either of us?” Hinata asked. No answer. He decided to keep talking, lest the silence swallow them both, “Ya know, he had an omega, someone else he wanted. It made so much sense all of the sudden, the way he treats me….” Kenma looked up fast, confusion etched on his face. “Yeah, and now he’s with Oikawa...Jeez, I really have bad luck,” He mused tears welling up in his eyes. He sniffled and wiped the tratorious droplets from his cheeks. Kenma looked utterly perplexed, but his features quickly softened,

“Shoyo….I think you’ve misunderstood a lot,” he added finally, caressing the omega’s damp cheek.

“Huh?” He tilted his head like a puppy, eyes wide, “What you mean?” 

Kenma had watched Karasuno play once or twice at practice games, watching the glances Kageyama gave Hinata while his back was turned. The look of longing, he knew it all too well as it stared holes into his skull from the mirror every morning. How his dark hair flopped into his eyes when he turned around abruptly so Hinata couldn't catch him. He knew. Kenma sighed, maybe it was time for him to let at least one of them be happy.

“I think you should talk to him-”

“Kenma, he doesn’t wanna hear it, he won’t even say a word to me recently!” Hinata interrupted throwing his head in his hands.

“Look just trust me, I promise he does,” Kenma continued softly, “it’s too late for me,” he paused, the melancholy look he gave the empty air in his lap was full of too many emotions to count. He took a breath and continued, “But it’s not too late for you.” And with that grenade dropped they sat in silence letting the suffocating quiet seep below their skin. It was only broken by Kenma’s sniffles,

“God, of course he would go for an omega instead, stupid stupid stupid strawberries,” He hiccuped at last, put his hand over his moth to stifle the sobs. Hinata brought the beta into his arms, wrapping him up tightly, his own tears mixing in. 

“Being an omega ain’t that fun either. Alpha’s are dumb Kenma,” he mummbled into the dark roots of Kenma’s hair. He sniffled and held the blonde’s face so their eyes were level, “You’re great, a catch! I swear.” Kenma shut his eyes, savoring the warmth of Hinata’s hand for just a moment more. 

“Thanks Shoyo,” a small voice, a whisper. 

“Friends?” Hinata asked hopefully with a sniff. 

“Of course,” Kenma added with a light smile. 

And so the two boys held each other for the night with the stars as the only witness to their mourning of the faithless heart and the passion that could have been theirs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How'd I do? I'm rly excited about the next chapter (Iwaizumi's POV) cause it's hella angsty so stay tuned! Questions? Comments? Ideas? I love your comments, they always make my day!
> 
> P.S. I changed my username cause a friend found my account and was being creepy and making me rly uncomfortable. If you have a link to my profile it won't work anymore, but everything else should b good!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how to love you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy!! Alright chapter 6 we're almost there!  
> I really like this chapter, it's a long one for sure.  
> Thanks for sticking with me y'all, really appreciate it  
> It's Iwaizumi's pov at last. Nothing is as it seems! enjoy

Oikawa had stopped walking home with him. Staying conveniently, suspiciously just a little bit too late in the gym. He was becoming exceedingly good at being anywhere except where Iwaizumi was. It felt like the setter was slipping through his fingers like fine silk or droplets of rain. _Suppose I’m to blame_ he thought with a sigh.

Oikawa had been talking about his nephew, always a doting uncle, when pictures of Kageyama kept coming up in his camera roll. The young setter asleep on Oikawa shoulder on the bus, his silky hair falling softly over his eyes, the sunset streaming in from dusty windows casting shadows on pale skin. Oikawa’s arm snaked around his shoulder holding him close. There were more, and more, and more. These were the kind of pictures lovers took, the kind that aren't for other people to see. But he kept going, talking about _his_ little brat. 

Today Iwaizumi had stayed back to talk to a teacher unbeknownst to the setter so as the sun sank into the skyline painting the school in glistening oranges and electric pinks, Iwaizumi caught up to Oikawa also leaving for the night. They walked side by side, neither saying a single word. An uncomfortable silence settled making his skin crawl. 

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. This wasn’t them. Not awkward silences only broken by Oikawa kicking up pebbles in the road. Not fidgeting hands and averted glances. _Please just say something_ he mentally pleaded, wishing for the past back. He’d broken something between them, took knives and nails and tore it apart. He wanted to scream into the void he’d created until his voice filled it up and sloshed over the brim, but some things don't heal. They stretch and scar and fester, and Iwaizumi had no idea how to fix it this time. Oikawa walked in his rightful place, right next to the spiker and yet he had never seemed further away. 

He didn’t know how to break the sheet of ice that paralyzed them both. His frustration turned to clay, molding, mashing, twisting crudely into anger instead. An emotion he actually knew what to do with. Sometimes the only way to stop your hands from shaking, is to clench them into fists.

“So...You and Tobio huh,” he began with a deceivingly casual tone “he’s a little young dontcha think?” _He’s not me_. Oikawa stopped in his tracks a sickening combination of confusion and offense etched on his face. 

“Excuse me?” He drew out the vowels dangerously. 

“I saw the pictures on your phone and-” Iwaizumi, unfortunately, continued.

“Shut up. Nope. It’s professional,” Oikawa clarified. That made the spikers eyes double in size and he almost tripped over his feet. 

“It’s WHAT now? Jesus Tooru...if you’re having money issues.. There’s no need to..do THAT” He sputtered out in disbelief.

“Huh? What- NO not like that you idiot,” he bit, suddenly realizing how his wording must have sounded. “I’m not prostituting myself jeez, I’m his recovery omega. Phantom breaking,” Oikawa explained with a huff pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“Oh…” Iwaizumi let the realization and pure relief set in, “So he’s not your alpha?..” 

“What? No,” Oikawa started walking, “And even if he was my alpha,” Iwaizumi flinched at the thought, “What would it matter to you?” He stopped again. The three feet between them felt like miles, stretching further and further, the chasm growing with every word, threatening to swallow them both. 

“Don’t say that Oikawa…” Iwaizumi pleaded, shutting his eyes, as if by sheer willpower he could disappear into the cracks of the sidewalk and they wouldn’t have this conversation.

“No actually. We’re going to talk about it now. You keep fucking avoiding me, ever since that party,” Iwaizumi just wished Oikawa would turn aorund and look at him. But in the same breath knew it was for the better that those doey brown eyes weren’t hopelessly ripping into him, drawing out things that shouldn’t ever see the light of day. 

“Oikawa, things happen. I don’t know, we’ve been busy-” he rambled, there were skyscrapers of paperbacks full of words he meant to say, but not a single page was read aloud. 

“No. Don’t give me that bullshit,” Oikawa tugged harder on his backpack strap digging his foot deeper into the loose road. 

“Plus, with you hanging out with Kageyama…” he continued, words were coming out of his mouth and sounded forign and sick even to his own ears. He knew he didn’t mean them but they gushed and raced out of him like provoked waterfalls, lawless. 

“Excuse me?? No, you lost the right to tell me who I can and can’t be with long ago,” Oikawa yelled, Iwaizumi couldn’t see his face, but could still picture that furrow that would be there between his brows and the slight flare of his nostrils. 

“WHEN?” Iwaizumi yelled back. If they were going down they were going down like an inferno, a supernova, in screaming color. 

“WHEN YOU REJECTED MY KISS YOU BRUTE” Oikawa snapped. His fists were balled at his sides as he breathed heavily, still not looking at Iwaizumi. 

It completely knocked him off his feet. Shock, guilt, fear, anger, confusion, nothing could be pinned down, they just rotated around him at full speed, dizzying like a 4th of July fair ride. His mind went blank, he felt hollow, fragile, insubstantial. As if the evening breeze could softly knock him over and he would shatter into pieces.

“So you do remember….” the alpha all but whispered. 

“How could I ever forget that?” Oikawa replied in his own soft tone, “I wish I’d forgotten it all. I wish I’d never even fallen for you. I wish I’d never even met you!” His words tumbled out, speeding up with every word, each syllable stabbing Iwaizumi a little harder as if his heart was a dart board and Oikawa was getting bullseyes every time. 

_How could he ever forget?_ Iwaizumi understood that sentiment. 

He recalled Oikawa’s loud screech over the phone. His unfortunate nickname ‘IWAAA-CHHANN”, and an invitation, nay, an order to come to a party. He put up a fight just because, but Oikawa had already won, he always did. The omega could ask iwaizumi for anything, and he would do it. He could ask the alpha to lay down and let the rain erode his bones until they were flushed down the mountain sides, and he would comply, only hoping the setter would lay down next to him. 

So he threw on jeans and a tank top that showed off his biceps, his shoulders, his collar bones. He worked hard for his place as arm wrestling champion after all. A small part of him always wanted Oikawa to notice them. Whenever he fussed over the spiker, rolling up his sleeves, bugging him to go out, the alpha within purred contently. Whenever that carmel and warm snickerdoodle scent was in his presence, he lost his mind. 

Of course he couldn’t even find the man who had dragged him here anyway when he arrived. Go figure. But the drinks were free and Iwaizumi could let loose a bit. Let his shoulders slump under the colored lights, tired from carrying what felt like the world every day. 

He always worried about Oikawa at these kinds of parties. The rational part of him knew the setter could handle himself perfectly fine. He was strong and agile and not completly stupid. But the world was still cold and hard for omegas and not having the brunette near him put him on edge. He couldn’t smell him in the crowd, which meant if things went south, and Oikawa said just a few words too many or flirted just a bit too much, or drank a bit more than he should, Iwaizumi couldn’t protect him. And god did he want to protect Oikawa.

He wanted to wrap the omega up sometimes. Pick him up in his arms and whisk him away from this dark world. Just tuck him in that stupid alein blanket he loves so much and make his whole world smell like dark chocolate and spicy cinnamon. He would run his hands through that silky hair raking away all the bad thoughts. Comb out the nightmares. The worries could trickle and flitter out of that big head until his swirling thoughts finally surrendered their endless tornado. And the omega could finally be at peace, content and sleepy in Iwaizumi lap. 

He was never really one for alcohol, always the designated driver, it never bothered him. Usually Oikawa was the one getting hammered and he would stumble along the street, supported by his spiker, kicking up rocks on the pavement in the street lamp light. He would take him home to that empty, empty house, well, empty on good days. And make sure he drank water even if he had to wrangle the drunk teen to the ground and pour it down his throat. Aggressive affection. 

Iwaizumi was a man who showed everything through actions. He wasn’t much good with words. They all felt like cotton in his mouth but came out as daggers in the end. He couldn’t give rousing speeches or sing sonnets, but never mistake him for cold or uncaring. Oikawa knew this. They had their own little language, a secret code, small ticks of clockwork, built by years of tiny gestures and knowing nods. It was a book only his setter could decipher, a dialect just for him:

“Get out of here so I don’t have to see that ugly face, shittykawa” Please go home, rest. You’ve worked hard.

“Get your ass back in gear” I know you can do better than this, is everything ok?

“I refuse to have a fucking stick as a setter” You need to eat more, I’m worried about you. 

“Stop flirting with those girls and go warm up, trashykawa” Don’t stop looking at me. I don’t like their grimy hands all over you, you’re mine.

“God, you look like shit” Have you been sleeping? You work yourself too hard. Please take care of yourself.

“How many times have I told you I hate that nickname?” Don’t you _dare_ stop calling me Iwa-chan.

Oikawa understood Iwaizumi in a way no one else did. Iwaizumi was a poem and he had it memorized. It was like he wrote a message in the ripples of a puddle and the setter still understood the love letter that had washed away. He was able to read the ballad written between the lines, see the flowers past the thorns. Him and him only. 

Tonight Iwaizumi had kinda been hoping to spend time with Oikawa. It was their last year of high school and no one knows what the future holds. He didn’t want to let the omega go. They’d been friends even before presenting. Maybe it was selfish, but he wanted Oikawa beside him forever. To say ‘shittykawa’ and be able to turn around and see that signature pout that he’d dreamed of kissing into a smile for years. The lull of love could blend with the chirping of crickets in the evening harmonizing, mesmerizing. They could forget if they were 18 or 9 years old and just simply _be_ for a while. The almost imperceivable highlights in Oikawa’s soft brown hair could light up the city. Two young, starcrossed boys, holding hands in the backyard because some things never change.

He recalled a happy July by the lake from years back, the water warm from the summer sun and the dappled light making Oikawa’s eyes sparkle. They were having a splash fight before tiring themselves out and calling a truce. The salami sandwiches that were only good when made by his mother. They laid, floating in the green water, seemingly endless. Oikawa grabbed his hand _so we don't drift away from each other!_ The grasp of his small, chubby hand in his while the sun’s heat warmed his eyelids and blessed his skin with freckles. The butterflies on the shore flittered past his mother's beach hat and onto the fragile flowers. The small waves lapped at his back and carried them farther and farther out. It didn’t matter because his best friend was by his side. The flies could buzz and the children screech and the fish bubble. The trees could try their best but their bark could never even rival the brown in Oikawa’s eyes. The sun’s reflection on the glistening water could never compare to the sparkle in his smile. A grin found its way onto the future spiker’s face as everything, in that one moment, for that minute, was exactly where he needed to be, and it was...glorious.

They had almost gotten to the other side of the lake by accident. His hand felt oddly cold when the other boy let go. They raced back and of course Iwaizumi won, swimming glowingly to the tune of Oikawa’s undignified screeches of “Iwa-channnnn”. 

Years and years passed and Iwaizumi came to the startling conclusion that he was not all that special, Oikawa acted like that around everyone. They all got hugs and laughs and attention. Everyone loved that man. He radiated his own magnetic field so strong no one could resist his tidal wave pull. 

But some moments felt like a secret from the world. The way he pointed out the tiny things on their way home from school, that shade of blue on the butterfly and how he’d never seen a cloud that shape, or recounting as his own theater troupe of one, the most recent gossip going around. Iwaizumi had noticed all of it already and heard the stories before but there was something about how the setter filled you up, as if he wanted to show you all of the beauty and wonder he found in the world, so you too could bask in its glow. He was generous that way, always sharing the light he captured. Oikawa was something he could never have, the thought dug its claws deep into his soul, ripping slow shreds of his heart over months and weeks and years, but he would let the wound of Oikawa Tooru fester and bleed out rather than face it become a scar and watch it disappear. He never wanted to let him go, god forbid he ever hear ‘Iwa-channn!!’ and know it was the last time.

Sometimes Iwaizumi would look up and stand in awe in his presence. He was forced to look away because something like that, so angelic, perfect wasn’t made for his eyes. He felt like he was gazing upon a renaissance painting crafted by god, he wasn’t worthy to bask in it’s vibrant reds and cold blues. Oikawa Tooru was pure and powerful and bright. And Iwaizumi had never wanted anything more than to be struck by lightning. 

But, Oikawa was nowhere to be seen so far tonight. Iwaizumi was talking to a tall red-haired apha with his very small blue-haired, omega boyfriend. The smaller on didn’t have much of a presence, but boy did the redhead makeup for it. Iwaizumi wasn’t sure he could smell it if the house was burning down over the scent of woodsmoke and was that, cherry coke?

A joke was cracked, he laughed, a warm smile graced his features as he figured his setter would have hated that joke. His shoulders finally relaxed a bit under the warm colored lights, his features softening. 

He was suddenly startled as his shoulders were pushed to face a stranger and a pair of lips placed on his. He didn’t know whose. Instinctually he shoved the brazen man away, _who dares?-_

Iwaizumi didn’t know his own strength sometimes. He worked hard for his body, always wanted better, stronger, faster. And so nothing would ever measure up to the absolute horror of seeing Oikawa, his setter, his omega, his world. The reason he wasn’t just a boy watching godzilla and catching bugs chasing after the tranquil nothing that came with the night air. Oikawa, his sun, too bright to look at directly and warm to fault, who burned and boiled his skin, but he would never look away, always chasing the sunset down for his time in the light. Watching _his_ Oikawa lock eyes with him as he fell down those cursed stairs. It felt like it was lasting forever. Moving in slow motion. Each second an ant caught in honey. He was too shocked, too confused to move. _Reach out, catch him!_ But not a single muscle, not an atom in his body moved. Oikawa looked at him. With those beautiful brown eyes, they were coffee on a sunday morning, chocolates on Valentine’s Day, hot cocoa after a day out in the snow. And now they were looking at him with such betrayal, shock, horror, it churned his stomach. The thunk and sickening _crack_ of his favorite body being maimed by his own force. 

The scream the setter let out rang in his ears. It was the worst sound he had ever heard. That was the sound nightmares were made out of, or at least Iwaizumi’s. Everyone stopped and stared. Nothing halted a crowd like an omega’s cry of pure agony. 

Iwaizumi had never raced down a flight of stairs so fast in his life. Nothing else in the world mattered right then and there except the boy at the bottom. His heart pounded in his ears. The thumping drowning out his footfalls on the wooden steps. He knelt there, hesitantly. He couldn’t figure out where to put his hands as they shook. His body wouldn’t cooperate while watching Oikawa shake and whimper and groan and...cry. Tears, because of him. 

It had been years since Oikawa cried in front of him. Last time had been the awards ceremony in middle school, they were so naive back then. Young and bright eyed. 

Trembling hands reached out to check for injuries, he was flying on autopilot, not daring to think things through, lest the panic set in. 

The large, tan hand was quickly slapped away before he could make sure everything was alright. The omega whined and scooted as far away as his mangled body would allow him. Iwaizumi just wanted to help, 

“Tooru, you gotta let me check ok,” he used an even tone to calm the whimpering mess beside him, not making any sudden movements. 

“n-NO,” he just cried harder. It broke his heart, it was like watching an earthquake shake a building to the ground knowing there was nothing you could do to help. Concrete crumbling, glass shattering. Tears raced down Oikawa’s face as he painfully slowly tried to sit up. He winced and clutched his head, his hand came away bloody. The omega’s eyes went cloudy and unfocused before they rolled into his head and he went limp. Iwaizumi quickly reached out and caught him before his head hit the ground again, volleyball reflexes were good for something at least. 

“h-hey come on,” Iwaizumi desperately tried to wake the omega up, something about head injuries and lack of consciousness being a bad mix bubbling up from the deepest crevices of his memories. The alpha’s breathing was coming faster and harder, it was harder to get air in.

Suddenly, two third years from another school approached. Their presence loomed over the two boys on the floor, casting them, trapping them in the shadow. 

“We can take him from here I think,” goon #1 sneered. He elbowed his friend and gave a sickening grin. The sharks were circling.

“Yeah, we’ll take _real_ good care of him,” goon #2 chuckled, licking his lips, “promise.”

Iwaizumi’s vision went red. A deep, feral, primal growl was ripped from his throat. The rumble reverberated through the rib cages of everyone in the room, low, dangerous. 

“Don’t you dare lay a _finger_ on him, you hear,” his voice was even and quiet, commanding. Armies would stop and lean in closer to listen to him as their knees shook. “Mine.” the words sunk into the crowd, his claim followed by a scent of pure dominance, the spice of the cinnamon burning down houses in theaters of flaming crimson and orange. The dark chocolate deepened, blackened, ellipsing the light in the room, drowning the sun itself in its liquid midnight. People began to scurry away hitting walls and furniture, giving the menacing aura Iwaizumi created as much space as the room allowed.

“Jeez, no fun,” goon #1 leered, crossing his tan arms, “sure you don’t wanna share?” he licked his lips again leaving them slimy matching the predatory, hungry look in his eyes. 

Iwaizumi snapped. He gnashed and bared his teeth, his shoulders rising for a fight, every hair on edge. He began to stand to smack the living daylights out of goon #1 and #2, but a quick whimper from the omega in his lap had him halting his plans. He did a complete 180 and gently brushed strands of soft chestnut hair out of the setter’s face, drawing the warm, lanky body into his lap. Oikawa instinctively curled towards the source of warmth and protection. 

“Get out,” he growled, the threat laid clear underneath. The two goons cut their losses and sauntered off finally, their steps a little too fast to be confident.

Iwaizumi was trying so hard to focus, ignoring his biology screaming at him to either attack the two men or claim what was his. _Think rationally Hajime. He’s hurt, 911._

Quivering fingertips drew out his phone from his back pocket clumsily, trying to find the call app with blurry eyes “ _911, what is your emergency?_.....”. The world narrowed into one thing, Oikawa’s knee at a sick angle and the blood trickling from his forehead. The sticky red made him sick. 

“Hey Tooru you’re gonna be ok, promise, I’m right here,” he whispered into the crook of the unconscious setter’s neck while they waited for the paramedics. “I-I’m not leaving, everything's gonna be ok,” Iwaizumi’s voice was cracking as the adrenaline wore off. 

Iwaizumi was not a gentle man. He was harsh edges and spikes, relentless waterfalls, boulders. He was not pillow drunk smiles and light breezes carrying dandelion seeds. But the look he gave Oikawa, the grasp he held the boy in his lap with, like he was something precious, fragile, could only be described as soft. He rubbed circles and traced shapes on his back with his fingertips, whispering reassurances in his ear, even though he knew the omega couldn't hear him. Burying his nose in the juncture of his neck to inhale lung after lung of warm carmel, just to remind himself the setter wasn’t disappearing. 

The ambulance was really something. They got out a stretcher and a crew of people yelling, sirens wailing, red and blue blinding him. Trying to let go of the omega, telling himself that he needed help, the alpha within relished relinquishing Oikawa from his grip. 

“Young man, you should go home now,” an order phrased as a suggestion from an older alpha EMT. He put his hand on the back of Iwaizumi’s neck, calming, grounding. 

The walk home felt unreal. Like he was in the twilight zone and time was fluid. Everything felt like a century ago, but also only seconds past. He felt tired, but knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. He kept running his hands through his hair, biting his lips, laser focused on just putting one foot in front of the other, just going home. 

“Hajime, what’s wrong?” his mother immediately asked, distress lacing in her words as he son stumbled through the doorway looking _haunted_. Iwaizumi collapsed into his mother's arms, shaking as he sobbed. 

“I-i did something bad,” he sniffled, she held him close the whole night, they never talked about it again. 

They had asked Oikawa’s mother if the setter was alright, she had texted a one word answer, ‘yes’ and no further discussion was attempted. She was a nasty person. Full of slime and snakes. Her camomile and flower petal scent had been lost long ago to heavy perfumes, scented soaps, and drown in the pressure of luxury. It was sickeningly sweet and thick. 

They got to the hospital room and Iwaizumi just couldn’t look him in the eye. The ONE thing his secondary gender was supposed to be good at, protecting, providing, he failed at. Spectacularly if he did say so himself. He looked at the flowers his mother brought as if he thought they might light into flames if he stared hard enough. Hanging by the doorway like a coward, unable to face that Oikawa was in a _hospital bed,_ and he was the one who put him there. The shame and sheer guilt hammered itself into a chain and tied him up. 

The last straw was when Tooru went on ‘vacation’

He knew something was wrong from the get go. Oikawa would have texted Iwaizumi constantly, asking him about outfits and ranting about the beaches he was gonna go to, the tan he was gonna obtain. But there was nothing, radio silence. That was the first clue. The second was that Tooru could do nothing but take selfies when he went to new places. There should have been _albums_ of his stupid ass backed by the ocean or city life, or sunset. Iwaizumi knew the omega like the back of his hand, so he knew when the map didn’t match up. 

A few texts, one or two emails, some voicemail, and a touch of magic, he found the name “Braskan Clinic”..... He closed the tab, shut the computer and left the table. He never looked further. Everyone knew what clinics were used for, drops. 

_Maybe if I’d called him_

_Maybe if I’d said hi in the hospital room_

_Maybe if I’d never gone to that party…._

“Please don’t ever say that,” he closed that three feet at last and grabbed Oikawa’s arm “please, never say you wish you didn’t know me shittykawa” The familiar nickname made him finally face the spiker, but he didn’t pull away. He wouldn’t lie, he had thought the same thing once or twice, if Oikawa had never met him, none of it would have happened, but all of the good times wouldn’t have either. And he wouldn’t let those memories go to save his life. The criminal universe could snatch everything it wanted, take his eyes, his body, anything, but Iwaizumi would guard those Christmases, New Years, sleepovers, wins, and even the losses to the last man. 

“It would have been easier on both of us,” Oikawa argued a defeated sigh, and a small shake of his head. God, he looked so _tired._

“I didn’t know it was you who fucking kissed me!” Iwaizumi defended. If Oikawa wanted the truth, that’s exactly what he would get. “ I-i panicked, I didn’t know who it was.” Curious, sad, brown eyes bore holes in his skull. 

“Tooru I didn’t know,” Iwaizumi moved to hold Oikawa’s hand instead, softening his grip. It was a tentative hold, like water droplets on a fresh, young petal, waiting to see if it would slide off, if it was strong enough to hold the dew. “If I had I wouldn’t have ever pushed you away. I would have pulled your stupid ass so close you’d never escape.” Oikawa’s eyes widened, lips parting slightly. 

“You-so why didn’t you say anything??” he all but screeched

“Why didn’t you??” Iwaizumi countered, “I pushed you, and you never said a word!”

“So you wouldn’t get in trouble..” Oikawa looked down, his voice a whisper. 

“So I wouldn’t… Jesus christ Tooru, I pushed you down the stairs. That’s unforgivable!” Iwaizumi yelled. He was mad. Mad at himself for being so senseless and weak, mad at Oikawa for naively forgiving people who didn’t deserve it.

“It was an accident! I’ve forgiven you already! You’re the one who looked at me with those disgusted sad eyes.” He yanked his hand away from Iwaizumis to cross his arms over his chest.

“I hated _myself_ ok!” Iwaizumi threw his hands up in the air, “the one thing I wanted to keep safe forever I gave a knee injury and a concussion ok. What kind of alpha does that make me?? I thought you might want it, so I gave you space,” he added, bringing his voice down.

“THE LAST THING I NEEDED WAS SPACE! Were you giving me or you space huh? Who was that benefitting??” Oikawa spat like venom, balling his hands at his sides and drawing his eyebrows together. 

“I’m sorry. God I’m so sorry. So so sorry,” Iwaizumi’s shoulders slumped and he put his head in his hands, letting his spine fall over itself, “ I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t - I don’t know how to love you,” he paused, finally saying it all out loud, “love anyone. Properly, without hurting them...I’m sorry.” The lack of a response was so much worse than anything Iwaizumi had dreamed of. The silence was forcing its way down his throats making him choke and gasp on the pure nothingness. 

“Love me? Hajime...since when?” a small voice, a step closer, a loaded question. If he had not been mere inches from the setter, he would have missed it. Iwaizumi snapped,

“You _idiot_. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I have loved you since even before I knew what that word meant. Since the times when you were only followed up by beetles and my godzilla t-shirt in my heart. I have loved you since you would put disney princess band-aids on my scratched fingers and kiss them better. I have loved you since that night when we tried to stay up until morning just for kicks, but you could only make it until 4:00am before passing out. Did you know I stayed up the rest of the night just watching your chest rise and fall, feeling the soft puffs of air on my chest. Running my hands through your hair as the sun rose in screaming color. I have loved you since Nora’s Nook, the old lake, when you held my hand so we wouldn’t drift away from each other. I have loved you since the dinosaurs roamed the Earth. I have loved you through every supposed alien invasion. I have loved you through every eye lash you told me to wish on. Did you know that every time I wished for you to stay with me always? Before I knew what butterflies in my stomach meant I thought I had a fucking intestinal disease that you made flare up. So don’t you dare, for a second think that I wouldn’t hesitate to give everything I have, and ever will have, to you, Oikawa Tooru. I was made to love you,” he let the message sink in and took Oikawa’s gaping mouth as an invitation to continue,

“I hate when those others get their grimy paws all over you. You’re a goddamn work of art and they put their hands on your shoulder and ask you for your number. Cheering for you in the stands, squealing like they know you. I can’t stand it,” he took a deep, grounding breath in preparation for the finale of the speech, “I know about spiking and the gym and arm wrestling, but when it comes to love? I don’t know anything, but I want to try. Can you let me try trashykawa?” the familiar nickname brought a small smile to the omega’s lips.

“Yes please,” he breathed, “Now kiss me you brute. Seeing _my_ Iwa-chan all soft like this...cute,” he took Iwaizumi’s hand once more and moved a little closer into his space. It was their galaxy now. 

“Right here? Really? A kiss,” Iwaizumi scratched the back of his head, unsure. 

“Well I suppose I could go find another alpha to do it,” Oikawa taunted, and began turning around before Iwaizumi grabbed his arm and pulled him closer. Close enough that he could feel the rub of his soft cotton T-shirt and the warmth of his chest. The omega in him purred the contact. _His_ alpha being protective, possessive, caring, perfect. Iwaizumi’s arms securely around him, making a castle wall around them, no one would ever get past the moat and they’d be safe from the rest of the world. Oikawa may have been taller, but Iwaizumi’s arms surrounding him made the omega feel small. 

“Don’t you dare. You’re not getting away from me again,” he growled and buried his hands in the setter’s fluffy dusty brown hair to pull him closer. The flush dancing across his cheeks looked so good this close up, his rosey lips were right there for the taking.

Their lips slotted together perfectly, the slow, knowing eye contact, brush of noses, the silent _please._ This was a world ending, world altering kiss. The kind where the senses come into sharper focus. Nothing mattered except Iwaizumi’s rough, chapped lips fitted to Oikawa’s strawberry chapstick ones. The Earth may have stopped spinning just for them, ceased it’s dizzying waltz. Colors were more saturated, the wind was warmer, as some long lost 100,000 piece puzzle had finally been completed. It was soft and hard, pouring wasted years of affection into one kiss, their first, a promise of more with lingered touches and fluttering lashes. And it was….glorious. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what ya think??  
> likes, dislikes, thoughts, anything. I love y'all's comments, they keep me going!  
> Next chapter is gonna take a while cause I have no idea what I want to happen. Lemme know what ya wanna see! (dw kagehina will happen)  
> bear with me :) love ya!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It might be a disaster, I can't wait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AYY it's here!! Sorry this took so long y'all, I started Avatar, knit a sweater, discovered Yagami Yato, finally got TikTok, and had some family drama so I was a little distracted  
> It starts with Hinata's POV then becomes Kageyama's. IK it's confusing, but it needed to happen  
> TW: strong language, mentions of cheating, and hinted/low key implied domestic violence

It had been raining all day. Gloomy, dark, heavy clouds coated the sky. Hinata watched the water droplets race down the window pane, the dark, humid air made it hard to focus. The peaceful yet foreboding pitter patter lulled him to a sleepy state, missing way too much of the lesson. There was no practice today, a rare day off. He had planned to sneak into the gym for extra spikes anyway, but Daichi said he would stand guard outside the door to make sure they all got rest today.

His real concern was that his bike wouldn’t do so well in the rain. He didn’t want to have to ride home cold, wet, and tires slipping.  _ No death wish here!  _ He mused as he left the building, jacket above his head as a makeshift umbrella, which he had ever so conveniently forgotten today. He decided to take the bus and then walk the extra distance, leaving his bike at school, and beg his mother to drive him tomorrow, he might have to wake up early to catch her on her way out. He ran past Coach Ukai’s store, desperate to make it to the stop in time. Unfortunately, his distraction at the sports store (new knee pads, wow!) cost him dearly and he stood panting, watching the bus drive away. 

“Dammit, the next one comes in…” he tried to read the worn sign, “30 minutes?!” he sighed and found a crumb of shelter under protruding molding on the side of a building. 

His internal lamenting about how utterly bored he was, was answered with a wet, dishevelled Kageyama running down the hill to also find he had missed the bus. The way his navy hair stuck in strands to his forehead made Hinata’s stomach flip over. He felt like he was in a dramatic romance movie. Well, without the romance apparently and unfortunately. 

Kageyama’s skin looked like it was made of alabaster, pure marble. Flawless, smooth, pale expanses, like a greek statue. He looked like his spine should be curving, bent almost impossibly, sinewy muscles rippling through the chiseled rock. He looked like he belonged in a museum. Far from the dreary rain of their little island. Far from Hinata’s mortal eyes. 

“Hey Kageyama! Over here,” he called, startling the alpha. He seemed pained trying to make his way over. They stood, both soaked through, Hinata shivering almost microscopically. “Um, so how are you?” he asked, unable to stand the silence. Kageyama put another foot between them, 

“Fine,” he responded, barely audible. 

“Good to hear!” the enthusiasm was hard to summon. Performing dark magic to conjure a smile. 

“How’s Oikawa?” 

“Fine,” it was short, barely more than a grunt.

“Well that's good,” he replied, wringing his hands. The tension was palpable in the air, uncomfortable and itchy. Crawling up and down his spine. He was afraid to make eye contact, but unable to focus on anything else. Hyper aware of the others presence, but unable to enact any semblance of conversation. He recalled Kenma’s advice to ‘talk about things’ and figured now was as good a time as any. If it was gonna be awkward, it was gonna be awkward and productive.

“So….,” he began, “me and Kenma broke up…” Kageyama let out a startled, choked noise akin to a gargle and quickly, yet poorly covered it with a cough.

“Wow, really,” he said feinting nochalantness, “why?”

“Ya know, it just wasn’t meant to be. He loved Kuroo and I-,” Hinata caught himself quickly, “anyway it was nothing” Kageyama nodded, averting his eyes.

“Um, you ok?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically concerned.

“Yeah we’re still friends,” Hinata sighed again, letting his head fall back onto the wall behind him, “damn the moment I’m done with Kenma you’re with Oikawa. Wild,” a thought that was meant to stay in his head dangerously escaped his lips. He cursed himself silently. Kageyama whipped his head around, mouth ajar in confusion,

“Huh? Oikawa’s my recovery omega, that thing I had….” they didn’t talk about it, no one did, it was better that way, “er, phantom breaking. We're not dating or anything...” He trailed off gifting the slightest, smallest bit of hope to the spiker. As if it was an invitation to fill the unsaid with a suggestion. To take the hint.

“Right…” he said ceremoniously, “You never told me who it was.” If Kageyama was finally talking, Hinata would take every word he could wring from the alpha. Something about the rain always eroded barriers, washed away walls.    
  


“Oh...well,” he began hesitantly, “um it didn't work out. It could never work.” he settled on. 

“I had someone like that,” he mused, closing his eyes, feeling the mist on his eyelids. This piqued Kageyama’s interest.

“Hm,” he grunted, “who?” Hinata frowned and cracked an eye open. 

“Na ah, if you’re not telling me, I’m not telling you,” he humphed and crossed his arms dramatically. 

“What? That’s not the way this works!?” the setter argued. Hinata fought the urge to smile. For just a second things felt like old times. Bickering over stupid things. He could almost taste the impending ‘Hinata boke!!’ but it never came. “You tell me first,” he finished.

“WHat? No I asked you first,” the omega pointed out, “ya know what, fine. Say it on three, both of us at the same time,” he proposed. 

“Tch fine,” the alpha begrudgingly agreed.

_ One _ , Hinata’s heart was beating out of his chest, he was sure that was a stupid expression, but now he could feel the thump like fireworks bursting and reverberatting through his chest. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears

_ Two _ , Kageyama felt like he was standing at a crossroad, two trains on a collision course. He was reminded of the word inevitable, there was no stopping it, each second another foot forward of the barreling headlights.

_ Three _ , when people tell you that ‘time seemed to stop’ you may never believe them, but it seemed that the raindrops just paused, in stasis, glinting like crystals. There wasn’t a breath, just them and their secrets.

**You**

Both at the same time. 

“Wait, what??,” Kageyama practically yelled, “that’s impossible.” He ran his hand through his hair eyes darting like a cornered animal.

“I-i know,” Hinata added shakily, “b-But you would pull my hair and call me boke! That doesn’t make sense,” the alpha didn’t even seem to hear him. 

“No, you don’t get it, that’s not possible,” he repeated, grabbing the omega’s shoulder so tight it almost hurt. 

“Man I heard you the first time” he complained, “hold on, no goddamn way. So I thought you didn’t like me so I started dating Kenma but you thought I didn’t like you because I was dating Kenma, but then I liked you too much and broke up with Kenma, but then I thought you didn’t like me cause you looked like you were dating Oikawa. Man, will our time ever be right?

“Take it easy on that one brain cell there boke,” Kageyama added, his hand falling back to his side. 

“HEyyy!” Hinata complained, but his words held no bite. It was just good to hear that name again, “well we’re both single and in love….so now what?” he asked hesitantly.

“I don’t know, but I-this could never work,” the alpha said, his eyes trained painfully on the asphalt below him. 

“What?? Why??” Hinata asked , trying to use his shorter height to catch the setter’s downcast eyes. The setter sighed,

“It just can’t…” Hinata was mad, he was frustrated. They just both confessed they had feelings, in the rain, this was the part that things worked out. This was the part where they kissed and the credits rolled and they lived happily ever after. This wasn't following the script. He balled his fists,

“Why are you so afraid of love??! Why do you always deny yourself things you want? You’re just a scared little boy aren’t you. You may think you’re ‘sparing me’ or something, but you’re hurting me Tobio. Just let us both be happy, we can be happy, please, I could make you happy,” the anger trickled into desperation, his voice raw and hitching.

“I know you could, Y-you do” God Kageyama wanted it so badly, more than anything he’d ever wanted. But it was too dangerous. He could keep it as a sacred, innocent, pure memory, some kind of oasis in his mind. If they went for it, he would mess it up, corrupt it, he wasn’t sure  how many more pieces he could lose at this point before he crumbled. 

Hinata felt like creamsicles dripping down your hand in the summer heat. Indistinguishable laughter in the background while the sun sinks in the horizon mimicking the hues that waltz in the spikers fluffy hair. He felt like a warm breeze through an open screen window on a night where the sun stays out too long like a petulant child, hovering over the streets past 7. He felt like falling asleep, sun drunk and high on starlight. He felt like childhood: scratches on your knees, missing front teeth, popsicle dyed lips in cherry red, climbing trees, backyard sprinklers, and classic crayola crayon masterpieces. 

“Tobio, we both deserve this love,” Hinata begged. _But do I?_ He wondered. Kageyama knew loves like this didn’t happen for people like him. There was an ache in his chest, a gnawing sensation just behind his ribs. The hollowness thrummed in time with his frantic heartbeat.

He felt as if he needed to keep looking at the boy in front of him, as if he’d lose his gaze and the omega would disappear, vanish, slip through the setter’s fingers like lawless smoke. Like if he looked away, for even a millisecond, he’d wake up. Wake up and be sitting on asphalt crying alone in the rain. Wake up and see dress shirts on the lawn. 

Noticing how spacey Kageyama was getting Hinata chimed in, “Well I’m not going anywhere ok, I promise, I’m here,” he reassured, “remember I said that the first time you set for me?” he paused, the alpha nodded in confirmation, “I’m gonna keep being here ok. You’re gonna look next to you and I’ll be at your side. Good and bad, doesn’t matter-” Hinata was so bright, so selfless, Kageyama felt he hadn’t earned someone like that by his side. He had spent too long drowning in thick, oily, black that his eyes had adjusted to the dim and the light burned. Seeing Hinata, hearing his admissions, Kageyama knew he was unworthy of that halo, he would only weigh down the omega’s wings, extinguishing the light in his midnight ocean. The sickening slime would seep into both their lungs. He tore his family apart, his team, he wouldn’t, he  _ couldn’t _ do it again. God, he wanted him, but it wasn’t Hinata’s job to pick up all of the alpha’s pieces. It wasn’t Hinata’s responsibility to try to tape up a heart that may never beat right.

“Shouyou, you don’t get it, I’M BROKEN, I-I only mess things up…I’ll tear you apart, I always do,” his voice shook, barely a whisper.

“Hey now,” the omega knit his brows and stroked a cautious finger over the alpha’s cheekbone, “we’re all a little broken ok, how do you think the light gets in? It seeps in through all the little cracks and missing pieces, ya know,” he sighed, “When are you gonna get it into your thick skull that  _ I _ love you?? I know you’re scared, but you’re not your parents, you’re not the bossy guy from middle school anymore either, you’re Kageyama Tobio,  _ my _ Kageyama Tobio, and I’m hopelessly, irreversibly, irrevocably, desperately in love with you. Whatever you give me, I’ll take,” Hinata grabbed his hand, not gently, but with aggression and passion and purpose. 

The spiker didn’t brush off his statement or try to reassure Kageyama he was whole. He didn’t deny there were cracks, splitting him like strikes of lightning on his skin, he acknowledged them, his soft kisses filling them with gold, tracing them with his finger. He knew that Kageyama was a mess, but the omega foolishly loved him anyway.  _ That idiot. _

“B-but, it might be a disaster…” Kageyama began, his breath picking up. Scenarios in flames lit up his mind in a sickening orange glaze.

“I can’t wait,” Hinata promptly shut down all of his overthinking. He flashed that megawatt smile, that kind that filled up entire rooms, continents even. The scrunch of his nose and the corners of his eyes encaptured him, enamored with the sun itself. Yes that’s what Hinata was, sunshine. Bright, blinding, glowing. Warm, scorching, sweltering. Gracing the alpha’s eyelids and soaking into his skin. Hinata was just so…. _ alive _ . Other creatures could see it too, the bugs that drifted and buzzed around his head and the cats that rubbed up against his legs, everything was sucked helplessly into his explosive magnetic field.

He recalled the old days, 6 or 7 years old. Squealing in the living room, giggling as his father set the needle down gently on their record player. He was never one for CDs or itunes, _they’re just not the same Tobio._ He could see the charm. The soft, ever so slightly scratchy lull of the bass and saxophone blending swiftly. Humming, ricocheting off the wallpaper, filling their little family up, sealing their little world in. His parents would lightly waltz in loose circles on the rug, sometimes going so far as to move the sagging black armchair to have more room. His smile seemed to split his chubby cheeks in two. His mother would pretend to complain and be  ‘dragged’ to the dancefloor, her dainty fingers dwarfed by his. 

` They had this little tradition where his father would hold his mother's head in his hands and stare at her, fingers rubbing small circles on their bond mark, completely mesmerized. She would blush and try to turn her face away from such an intense look, but he would hold her still. His smile was delicate, tender, the adoration nearly bursting from the seams. And he would lean in and press a small kiss on each check, trying not to break into a grin and ruin it.

_ Ewwww. Daddy stoppp.  _ He would screech and cover his eyes with chubby fingers. And his mother would scoop him up with a chuckle, no matter how big he got, and they would sway to the mellow jazz filtering through the room. A family. A perfect one. 

But his mother got promoted, quite the feat for a beta, and started working longer hours, barely home. His father on the other hand got demoted. The animosity grew. His father’s ruined alpha pride manifested in screaming matches and beer and flying objects. The record player got dusty and laid untouched on the mantle of a now cold fireplace. His mother would come home  exhausted, barely enough energy to heat up leftovers, and pour a glass of wine. Kageyama started taking his sweet time walking home from school and then volleyball practice, desperate to escape it for a while. 

His headphones on full volume stopped blocking out their voices at a certain point, his pillow no longer muffling the sobs, his door no longer filtering out the battle of peppermint, turning sickly sweet and sticky with hurt and anger, and the woodsmoke suffocating and thick with rage and fury.  _ Stop, please.  _ He used to croak into the corner of his room, hands clamped firmly over his ears, nose buried in his knees, the walls only echoing back his ruined voice. 

People fall out of love, that was known. But this wasn’t falling, it was crash landing, it was collapsing, crumbling. It was terminal velocity. They say it’s not the fall that kills, it’s the landing. So if this was the descent, what was the ending? 

“You slept with that SKANK Mandy?? Don’t you try lying, this place, our  _ bed _ , reeks of bubblegum and desperation,” his mother screamed that day. The chair she had knocked over by getting up so fast laid crooked on the floor. “I can’t fucking believe you.” His father rose slowly from his armchair, leisurely. 

“Yea well, if you were home more, I wouldn’t need ‘that skank Mandy’ to...satisfy me,” he insidiously smirked. 

“Well maybe if you had gotten that job, I wouldn’t have to work my ass off trying to support this family,” she retorted. His father growled dangerously. Kageyama felt like the house was on fire, he was choking on smoke. The mint was burning his eyes as he peeked around the corner. 

“Hey, that wasn’t my fault! Greg’s an asskisser ok,” he defended.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” she spat venomously. 

“Fuck off. You sure as hell don’t. And so I’m here doing the work, trying to raise the fucking twat.” He waved his hands angrily.

“Oh and what an incredible job you’re doing. An alpha who hides in his room all the time and is only obsessed with that stupid fucking game. Big wow,” his mother huffed crossing her arms.

“IT’S NOT MY FAULT HE’S TURNED OUT SOFT,” This was escalating, it was going up and up, bubbling over the brim, consuming everything in site letting Kageyama get swept up in the dizzying collateral of his parents' cyclone. The swirling nimbus clouds darkened, cloaking him. 

“The kid’s a fucking disaster!” She screeched, nearly bending in two with the volume. 

“Fuck you bitch,” his father fumed. Turning away from the heated beta.

“No, you go fuck MANDY. Have fun with that little slut.”

“You know what, maybe I will,” He said as he began to gather a random assortment of his belongings. Everything of his in sight. He was  _ packing _ ….

“Be my fucking guest, you and your fragile pride can’t process the fact that I’m more successful,” she narrowed her eyes. His father was seething, literal steam was almost coming out of his ears, dominance and rage emanating from his body, enveloping him in an ocean of  _ Don’t fuck with me. _ He stomped towards her,

“NO, Daddy don’t hurt her PLEASE,” Kageyama suddenly jumped in between them and begged. Tears rolling down his cheeks, carving rivers and valleys out of the baby face he couldn’t wait to grow out of.

“Tobio go to your room,” her voice was completely level, almost dangerously so.

“But mama-” he began.

“Go to your fucking room,” she stated again. Her tone made it clear this wasn’t a discussion. As icy and cold as an early January dusk. The icicles pointed, dripping in a silent threat, the wind biting and howling. Kageyama tip toed back to his perch just beyond the kitchen, not quite far enough away to hear his father sigh and painfully remark, 

“See, all he can do is cry, you made a goddamn sissy.”

The words settled deep into him. Into a place where the dark things go. A place that rewrites all that you know, only opening for 3 am and slammed doors. Everything slithered into the crevices and creases of his body and mind. He vowed, that February night, that he would never fall in love. If that was what it turned into, crude, and twisted, and sharp, he didn’t want it.

And he sure as hell wouldn’t be  _ soft _ either. He would be a ‘real’ alpha, yell at his teammates, lead them, take no shit. He would be prickly and harsh. Hoping foolishly, that it would bring the woodsmoke scent back. Feeling as if he had been this person before, everything in his family would work out. And he would come home to jazz and sweet kisses.

The record player was smashed into pieces on the lawn with all his father’s shirts. Pictures cut in two, signed papers. His mother started working more abroad and buying more white wine. It was a mess. 

Then Kageyama met the Karasuno team. Full of alpha’s that were...soft. Asahi, a gentle giant, Daichi, the teddy bear. But somehow, they were the ace and captain. They were still respected and loved and appreciated. It was against everything he had been taught. Be tough, never show what you’re thinking, use physical aggression if necessary, if you want something you take it. But Asahi and Daichi, and everyone else on the team in fact, was wonderful... and wonderfully soft. It was unfathomable. 

Then his second vow broke, when Hinata wiggled his way into Kageyama’s life. 

He was right. Love only ended in a collision course. Love meant the highest highs but the lowest lows. But, love made you feel on fire. Love made you feel like you’d been struck by lightning.

But...love hadn’t ended as he had thought. It was confusing and malleable, and nobody truly knows what they’re doing. So maybe love would be quick attacks and then crying in the rain. Maybe that’s all it could be, and maybe that’s all it should be. Maybe they were young and it didn’t matter. Maybe soft was ok. Maybe his parents were wrong. Maybe  _ he _ was wrong. Maybe, just maybe, he could make this work. 

“Shouyou,” he croaked, after a few beats of silent consideration and flashback. His voice was a little rough, but the name felt perfect on his tongue. “I’ll learn it, love, I promise. I’ll learn it like it’s a volleyball play, or high fives, like it’s my route home everyday. For you,” he hesitated, out of breath, “for us.” 

“Tobio,” Hinata’s voice was tender. He took the alpha’s face into his hands, catching wet, navy strands in his fingertips, “we can learn together ok. I...I don’t know what I’m doing either,” he chuckled nervously. They looked so young all the sudden. Finally 15 again. Kageyama slowly removed Hinata’s hands from his face, holding them in his lap for a lingering second before cupping the omega’s cheeks, squishy in his palms, it was shaky, and gentle, like a fawn taking its first steps. Their eyes met, swimming metal, churning, constantly changing between blue and grey found hard gold, toasted brown. Kageyama leaned forward pressing two kisses, one on each of Hinata’s cheeks, conjuring up the only affection he knew. Hinata looked a little confused and a little shocked, but he must have gotten the hint that this ritual was important, sacred to him. It was him trying. Trying the best he could. The alpha kept his hands there, letting his fingers brush Hinata’s scent glands. The summer scent muted by the muggy of the air and rain. 

Hinata pressed butterfly-like kisses down the damp skin of the setter’s neck, soft and light. Right there, in his arms, Kageyama felt like he would never die. They could live forever in the moment, never growing old in the rain. The droplets nearly indistinguishable from the tears.  The two blending, dancing, merging. Hinata made him feel immortal sometimes. 

He just stood there and let Hinata take him apart piece by piece, the boy might devastate him, but Kageyama would give himself over to those feather-light touches willingly and forever. He would be a candle and let the omega be his flame. 

Oikawa might have been right. People were allowed to break, to shatter recklessly on the floor. Their pieces scattering and flying to every corner of the galaxy. And they were allowed to change the blueprint on the way back up. He wasn’t his parents, he wasn’t 13 anymore either. He was just Kageyama Tobio. Kageyama Tobio who was just hopelessly, utterly, unconditionally, and foolishly in love with the idiot in front of him. 

“Stay?...with me?”" he asked, not as the renowned setter, or the intimidating alpha, or the failing student, or hotheaded partner, or also quite possibly all at once. 

"Of course," Hinata assured with a soft smile, "you'll never get rid of me."

And maybe that could be enough, maybe  _ they _ could be enough. Maybe they could intertwine their souls to mirror  their hands and take on the world together. And maybe this time, he didn’t ever have to let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for sticking with me on this!!! The support and love I got made me so happy and encourages me to keep writing! That said if y'all have any prompts or ideas ya maybe wanna see written I have no ideas where to go next and am open to suggestions! I low key liked Oikawa and Iwaizumi's ending better but....  
> Lemme know what you think!! Thanks for reading and much love <3


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